I

My name is Thomas Herge. I was born in 1973 in Ohio. I moved to Montgomery, Alabama when I was very young and attended Montgomery Catholic High School. I graduated in 1991 and attended law school. As soon as I was out of school I moved to Seattle, Washington to film a science show for an old high school friend named Aaron Margetson. He was the owner of Aaronco, a multi-billion dollar corporation.

One day I was putting on my lab coat early in the morning when I heard a strange noise in the hall. I went to the door to see what was going on, but before I could get to the door, a man in a futuristic suit shot me with a laser. I fell to the ground and woke up after what seemed years. I felt that I had had an odd dream, but I had forgotten it. I finished putting on the lab coat and went down the hallway to a large laboratory that had many TV cameras. “Mr. Herge, we’re on in five, four, three, two, one.”

“Welcome to yet another episode of Tom Herge: The Scientific Genius. This is your host, Tom Herge. This show has been made possible by Aaronco, the makers of New Spam. New Spam, it melts in your mouth and leaves a flavor that sticks with you all day long. New Spam, it’s amazingly delicious.”

“CUT!” yelled the director.

I straightened out my absurd polka dotted bowtie and prepared to begin the show. I knew that we would be working on the show until Wednesday. This week’s episode would be about the chemical relationship between photosynthesis and cellular respiration. It was a fun job, but I never understood why I did it.

“Frank,” Frank was my best friend on set, “I still don’t understand why I ever signed on for this project. I should be back in Alabama practicing law like I was trained to in school. One of these days I am going to pick up and leave Seattle for good old Montgomery, Alabama and start my life anew.”

Frank responded, “Tom, you say that every Monday morning before we get underway with the week’s episode. Believe me when I say that you will never leave this show until Aaronco drops our support.”

“But that will never happen because I went to high school in Montgomery with the owner of Aaronco. Aaron is very rich; his goal is to become richer than Bill Gates, and I bet he can do it. His ambition cannot be compared to anyone else’s. Overall, he is a great guy, and people are willing to buy stuff from him for that. He would never sell anyone a piece of junk. His honesty will take him to the ends of the Earth and back twice over. He also gives the people what they want; that is why he would never cut funding to this show. People always need help understanding science, and as long as I am willing to help, Aaronco will not cut funding.” I really felt that way and I still do.

“Since you know him so well, why do you think sales of New Spam have skyrocketed?”

I knew that this was the big question then. Nobody really knew the answer and most of them were coming up with absurd reasons for Aaron’s success in the food industry. “Aaron has been putting forward a very aggressive and effective advertising campaign. He is using a large sum of his profits from other consumer goods to advertise his big-ticket product, and that is New Spam. I think he called me once since we graduated from high school back in 1991, and that was rather recently. He told me that he woke up in the middle of the night and decided to make himself a midnight snack. Aaron opened his pantry and saw a can of Spam. He therefore decided to eat it. He could not fall asleep, though, because of the disgusting aftertaste that the Spam left. He wondered if he could have his scientists develop a preservative that would not only give Spam a good aftertaste, but also keep it from molding over quickly because when he got up in the morning he was going to have fried Spam and eggs, but to his dismay the Spam had gone bad in only five hours.”

Frank was obviously getting bored, so I told him that we could get back to the show and I’d tell him the rest of the story when I had a chance. Everything went forward without a problem. The show was really good because anyone from six to sixty could enjoy it and understand the concepts without thinking it was too scientific or too much for little kids. I would not be able to handle either. The way I did the show fit my personality perfectly; it conveyed very difficult subjects in a humorous and easy to understand way. I think that life is not as complicated as people make it out to be. I have always tried to make it clear to people that they do not have as many choices as they think they have; that makes life simple but enjoyable.

When I got home that evening, I went through my routine. I went directly to the fridge and grabbed a soda before tuning the TV to Sci-Fi and watching what was left of “Stargate SG-1”. As soon as it was over I began to cook a can of beef stew. I was going to watch the news when I finished eating because of the upcoming presidential election. I did not know for sure whom I was going to vote for, but I was rather confident that I would vote for Governor Bush and not Vice-President Gore. Things were really heating up, and I needed to know exactly what was going on. It seemed that every fourth commercial was for New Spam, so I wondered how much money Aaron was spending on those commercials. I figured that Aaron would advertise at the next Super bowl. I did some genealogical research and went to bed. The phone suddenly rang and woke me up.

“Is this Mr. Thomas Herge?”

“Yes, this is the Herge residence.”

“I am Philip Brier and I am working on behalf of Congress to find out what is causing Aaronco to have such success with New Spam. I was able to find that Mr. Margetson had great interest in you.”

“Has Aaron done anything wrong?”

“The FDA was recently looking over its test results for the preservative agent in New Spam, and it discovered that in the original report they had overlooked an unknown compound in the additive. Preliminary tests seem to suggest that the compound is addictive. We have no evidence of this as of yet; we are only gathering information.”

“I find it hard to believe that Aaron would do anything like that intentionally.”

“Nevertheless, we cannot take any chances. We would like you to come to Washington tomorrow morning. When you get to the front desk, ask for a first-class ticket to Washington for Thomas Herge. We will have a man waiting for you at the airport. Have a good night.”

“But…” He had hung up before I could ask what I was supposed to do about the show. I tried to go back to sleep, but the possibility that Aaron had done this willingly frightened me.

When I got up in the morning, I dressed quickly and went to the airport. Before I even knew it, I was in Washington, D.C. I was met by some kind of agent and taken to an undisclosed location- i.e., I was blindfolded. I arrived at what seemed to be a sort of laboratory but was taken directly to an interrogation room. I was seated and the same man to whom I had spoken over the phone began to ask me questions.

“Mr. Herge, when did you first meet Mr. Margetson?”

“I met Aaron in sixth grade. That would have been 1984.”

“What was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Margetson?”

“There really was not much of a relationship; we were acquaintances who had deep respect of each other.”

“Did you know anything about his idea of New Spam before Mr. Margetson began to buy Hormel stock?”

“Yes, I did. A day before he began to buy the stock, Aaron called me and told me how he was going to have a midnight snack. He saw some Spam in the pantry and decided to have a spamwich. Aaron told me that he wanted to add something to Spam which would prevent it from having a bad aftertaste and to prevent it from spoiling over. He also told me that he would buy a majority of the Hormel stock. He would then bargain to get the rights to spam with his financial influence on Hormel. Aaron told me that he would then create New Spam. That is all that I know.”

“Very well, if you would follow me, I will show you a little experiment we are performing on a volunteer with New Spam.”

Mr. Brier took me down the hall to one of the laboratories. In the lab there was not much; it looked like an office with a man in it. “We have been feeding this man nothing but New Spam for the past two weeks,” Mr. Brier said.

The man looked perfectly fine, but I decided to test to see if he was really addicted to the substance. I whispered to Mr. Brier and he gave me some ideas. I dare not say what we did to him, but his desire for the Spam was clearly beyond hunger. Mr. Brier and I stepped out into the hall to discuss what happened.

“This could be very bad, Mr. Brier. Whoever controls the supply of New Spam has complete control over the people who have eaten it. Do you have any idea what areas this product has been spread to?”

Mr. Brier took in a great breath before responding. “The stuff has been sold in the southern United States and in the Central and South American Nations. He will expand to the rest of the overseas market tomorrow and to the northern United States and Canada next week.”

“Then we must prevent the spread of New Spam immediately.”

“I wish it was that simple, Mr. Herge, but we still have no conclusive evidence that New Spam is addictive, and we cannot prevent its spread until the proof is in our hands. However, I do have something in mind.”

“Go on…”

“Since you know Mr. Margetson to some extent, we were hoping that you could ask him to delay New Spam’s debut elsewhere. You must contact him as soon as possible.”

“I could do that but for the fact that I do not know how to contact him. The only time we have spoken since 1991 he has called me.”

“We can give you his phone number and address. He lives in Montgomery, Alabama. I’d recommend that you call him from here and tell him to temporarily hold off the spread of his product. Then you should go to visit him personally in Montgomery to discuss the specifics.”

“I’ll do it, Mr. Brier.” He then took me to a telephone in a room full of computers. I was handed a yellow post it note with an address and phone number. I dialed the old rotary phone and waited for the receiver to be picked up. Finally, there was an answer.

“Hello,” Aaron said. I was quite amazed that Aaron was still answering his own telephone, but then again, not every business tycoon sets up shop in his old home town in the effective middle of nowhere.

“It is indeed good to hear your voice Aaron. This is Tom Herge.”

“Oh yes, the last time we spoke was the time that I told you about my idea for New Spam. How is the television business treating you?”

“I’m doing alright, but I always end up thinking about what life would be like if I was practicing law back in Montgomery. How are you feeling about the rapidly growing success of New Spam?”

“I think that it is a wonderful thing. People agree with me about how this move was totally necessary and as it spreads, the more people agree with me.”

“That is precisely what I am calling you about. There is something very wrong about it and I must ask that you hold off any further spread of New Spam…, at least for a while. I will be coming to see you tomorrow. We’ll be able to discuss it then.”

“From Seattle?”

“What?”

“Are you coming from Seattle?”

“No.”

“Where, then are you coming here from?”

I did not really want to answer this because it might scare him, but I realized that I had to tell Aaron if he was to trust me. “I am coming from Washington D.C. That is why you must end all spread of New Spam.”

“That will be a problem. You see, it is already on the markets in Asia and will be in Europe in a few hours, too little time to spread the word. However, I will be able to hold it off in northern North America if I act right away. I will see you soon.” He hung up the phone immediately, no doubt to call his supply men.

It was early on Wednesday morning when the taxi pulled up to the long drive. Aaron was living on the outer fringes of the city where he could live in relative luxury. He lived even further east than Arrowhead, which was where both of us grew up. It was about a quarter mile from the road to the house, but the cabby was not going to go up the driveway.

“How much?” I asked.

“That will be twenty dollars,” the cabby responded. I grudgingly pulled twenty-two dollars from my wallet and handed it to him. He gave me a typical “where’s my tip?” look and drove off. I had a nice walk in the shade. The place reminded me of an old southern plantation along a river in South Carolina or Georgia. Aaron was obviously doing well, but I knew better than anyone how things might turn for the worst. I was feeling rather anxious about being back in Montgomery. I knew that I had been talking about it for years, but I was always too afraid to actually do it. I had spent too much time there to feel comfortable. People remembered me and remembered what I was like. It wasn’t like that at all in Seattle. I had no history there, and I liked it that way. Nevertheless, I did have some unfinished business in Montgomery that I knew I had to finish some day, but I had been ignoring the fact that one day it would be too late, and I would have wasted years of worrying for nothing.

“Hello,” said Aaron.

“I’m surprised to see you open your own door. Don’t you think there are people out there to get you?”

“That would be the point of the snipers in the trees.”

I looked about and could barely discern the figures of men with guns in the trees. I knew they were supposed to be well hidden, but I was still embarrassed and said, “Oh.”

“Come in, it’s good to see you.” We went inside. He gestured to a couch in a side room and asked, “Coffee?”

“No thank you.”

“Very well, then.” He sat down at a large armchair and pouring himself a cup of coffee said, “Now what’s all this about something wrong with New Spam?”

“The FDA has been going over some of its research about New Spam and it has noted some irregularities. It would seem that some byproduct of the preservative process is addictive. The substance has no physical side effects: that’s why they didn’t pick it up at first. However, the substance creates the strongest mental dependence ever seen in any sort of drug. This dependence gives the supplier of New Spam power over all those who have eaten it.”

“That is very interesting. That would explain why I have been eating so much New Spam lately. When I go without it, there is no pain, but my desire for it increases tremendously.”

“Then you did not know. That is very comforting. The trouble now will be to remove New Spam from the market.”

“I can help you with that. In fact, I believe I will go back to Washington with you to coordinate the effort from there.”

“D.C. or the state?”

“D.C., of course. I am going to see what I can do, but I have a feeling that my board of directors will not be very happy about it. They are obsessed with money. They will do absolutely anything that is not illegal to get it: that would be why I chose them.”

“Thomas LaPointe doesn’t strike me as that kind of person. Why, then, is he on your board of directors?”

“He was the only person to hold stock in New Spam at the start other than me and you.”

“Why didn’t you put me on the board of directors?”

“Thomas didn’t have a job; you did. Trust me when I tell you that you were likely to make more money on that television show than on the board of directors at that time. That has proved not to be the case, but if I had asked you then, you would have turned me down.”

“And that is why I never came back to Montgomery. People always assumed they knew what I was going to think, so they never asked me, and I always ended up paying for the consequences. They took my intelligence for granted. They never thought that I could make a mistake; and when I did, it was a big deal.”

“That is all in the past. All of the people that used to make a big deal of everything are gone now. If you want to come back here and start you law practice, I understand. Maybe you could make it up to me by being my personal lawyer. Big businessmen need lawyers all the time. It would be easier if they were on my side for once. To get to the matter at hand, I will talk to my board first. After that I will follow you to the capital. Where are you staying anyways?”

“I’m staying with my parents while I’m here.”

“Oh, because I was just going to offer to let you stay here, but seeing that you have plans, I’ll leave you to your business. I assume you know the way to the door. I hate to be a rude host, but I have some important phone calls to make.” Aaron stood up. I followed him in doing so.

“I understand.” As Aaron went to a back room, I made my way to the door. I found a long black limousine waiting at the end of Aaron’s drive. I took a risk and got in.

“What did he say?” said a vaguely familiar voice from the seat across from me. The cabin was completely black such that I could barely make out his shape.

“He tells me that he did not know about the substance either and is just as addicted as anyone else. He also told me that he would immediately get to work on removing New Spam from the market. I personally believe him on this one. He seemed very straight forward.”

“That still does not comfort me,” the voice continued, “my brother has been acting very strangely for a while now, and he becomes hushed whenever he talks about Aaronco. I aim to find out exactly—

“Who are you? Your voice is familiar, but I cannot pinpoint it.”

“I’m surprised at you, Tom. I would have thought you would recognize Michael LaPointe. As I said, my brother has been acting very odd lately. I must know why. I fear that this whole New Spam thing is sinister. I am taking you downtown. I want you to tell the newspaper about this. Because it’s our paper, surely only geniuses and idiots will believe what you have to tell them. I don’t want you to incriminate Aaron, but we must get the cat out of the bag.”

“Michael, what is your business? You seemed to just disappear after you graduated in ‘89.”

“I’ve been doing this and that. Most of my work takes me out of state, but I’ve been living here several years.”

“I take it you’re not going to tell me what you do for a living.”

“No, it’s just that I work for whomever I want to work for. There is a great flexibility in that, and I take advantage of it. The hours are good, the pay is good, and I don’t have to work for an employer I don’t like. You see, there are always people willing to hire me; I just pick and choose. Right now, I’m working for myself. No one is paying me; I mean to slay the demon that torments my brother. He has never been very competent. Why else would he have not had a job for so many years? I don’t wish to injure Aaron in any way because it was through his immense generosity that my brother got that job for Aaronco. However, we must find out what is happening quickly, for I fear that the mighty dragon’s lair is within the high offices of Aaronco, and when informed of the addiction thing, he will use it to his advantage.”

“Michael, you surprise me. I would have never taken you to be so, well, uh…”

“Assertive?”

“Yes, yes, that’s the word. You were always such a quiet person in high school. You were always the mediator of sorts. Now you’re what I’d perhaps call a sort of bounty hunter—

“Do not call me that! I cannot be considered a bounty hunter. Besides, bounty hunters are open about their profession.”

“Very well then, but I need some way to define your profession.” That was the last word spoken for quite a while. The limo driver was taking I-85 to get downtown: a very obvious but not very scenic route to go through Montgomery. There were some things to see, but after we had arrived downtown, I mostly ignored what was going on outside.

“Be sure that the article is believable enough for people to stop eating New Spam.” I did not respond and just stepped out of the car. Describe the Montgomery Advertiser building

I was just at the door when a loud crash was heard on Bell Street. A few people on their way out rushed to see what had happened; I was not far behind. It was not a pretty sight. The limousine that I had been in only a minute before had driven off of the bridge and was on the railroad tracks. On the bridge was a three car pileup. I ran to the limo as fast as I could. It had been crunched up like a piece of tinfoil. I was able to break open the window to the passenger compartment. There was blood everywhere.

Michael said with great force for his condition, “They knew what I was up to…” He cringed in pain. “Do not let them keep you from getting this story out.”

He became unconscious just as the Montgomery Fire Department arrived. I told them that there were a driver and a passenger and that the passenger was unconscious. As I walked away, I realized that spam was somehow related. I also knew that I might be next if I wasn’t careful.

I went up to the road and began to inquire as to what had happened. I kept coming up with unsatisfactory answers until I was most of the way back to the building. There was a rather tall young woman walking toward the newspaper office. She was wearing a coat and carried a handbag full of papers. This would be my last opportunity to find out what had happened before it was in the news.

“Do you know what happened over there?” I asked.

“Don’t I know you?” she asked me.

“Hmm… let me see… oh! Kate Zimmermann?” I said surprised.

“That’s me, and you’re Tom Herge, right?”

“Precisely”

“Well, it’s good to see you again. Oh, right, from what I could tell, a small car came up from behind the limo and tried to force it off the road. The limo driver moved into the right lane but found a car stopping in front of him. The limo veered off the bridge. Then the hit-and-run guy found himself going in the wrong direction and plowed into another car head on, on the bridge. The drivers of those two cars were killed. A second car slammed on its brakes, but still ended up in the three-car pileup. What are you doing here; I haven’t seen you in nine years.”

“I was going to the Advertiser. I was in that limo only a minute before the crash. Michael LaPointe was riding in it.”

“Oh, my goodness, you nearly died, but why are you in Montgomery?”

“I was visiting Aaron Margetson. We were discussing the fact that there is a highly addictive substance in New Spam. I was going to give the newspaper an article about it. Michael was rather upset over all of this and he seemed convinced that somebody working for Aaronco was behind this ‘accident’.”

“Do you think Aaron might be behind it?”

“No, I actually doubt that he knew about this at all.”

“Well, I can write something about it for you.”

“You’re working for the newspaper?”

“No, I just send in editorials from time to time. I already had something prepared about the election, but I think that this may be more important.”

“I am tremendously surprised that you could find anything more important than an election. I would certainly have thought you were going to ask me who I was going to vote for; Bush by the way, so I hope you’re happy.”

“Now may I ask where you have been for nine years?” As she asked this, we walked into the building.

“Yeah, um, as I’m sure you know I got my law degree, but Aaron offered me a job for a TV show in Seattle, Washington. It is called Tom Herge: The Scientific Genius. Have you heard of it?”

“I’m afraid I have not.”

“Darn.”

“How long are you staying in Montgomery?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She dropped off a letter into a box and we proceeded to leave the building. “Where are you going? You can drive there in my car and I’ll write down you’re story on the way.”

“I’m staying at my parents’ house tonight. Shall we?”

I opened the door for her and we went to my parents’ house on the far east side of town. I had enough time to finish my story. She put it in the paper and it caused quite a bit of trouble. However, by then, nearly a quarter of the world’s population had tried New Spam, and if Aaronco’s board of directors was behind some terrible plot, there was no stopping them. When the problem was going to be brought to court, Aaron could not be found anywhere, and the case was dismissed due to a lack of evidence. I returned to Washington, D.C. and helped in the development of some sort of antidote to New Spam, but we had little success. It was not until January of 2001 when George W. Bush was president-elect that the Spam would arise again.