The Primates

Samantha Neave visits a future where almost all animals have rights.

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“People have been killing animals for millennia...” The Professor smiled sagely at the boy before him, who was adjusting his hazmat suit: “It’s just the human way... First there were hunter-gatherers, killing to eat. Then there was killing just for sport, and piling up meat in supermarkets. Now – there’s us!” He handed the boy a syringe filled with fluid as they both stared at the cage’s helpless inhabitant for a moment. “It’s alright,” he reassured the boy, whose hands were trembling. “It won’t feel a thing,” he lied.

Disinfectant pervaded the laboratory, with faint urine smells wafting through the air every time the scientist opened a cupboard. He was assessing his young apprentice the whole time, discreetly. They were usually like this to begin with. A combination of patience and education would do the trick. You became acclimatised to the job sooner or later, and he could tell that this boy was a quick learner, so he continued: “I’ll monitor its heart rate as you inject. Don’t be nervous – it’s restrained, so it can’t hurt you. Just do it swiftly and accurately... Are you ready?”

The boy bit his lip, inhaled, then nodded. His trainer turned to the monitor and waited. As his astute eyes watched the heart rate shoot up, he heard the usual screech from the subject, and the rasping breaths that followed. The line on the monitor zigzagged erratically. Finally, the line steadied, although at an enhanced rate of heartbeat. The scientist turned back to congratulate his protégé: “Well done, James! It’s not always easy to –” he barely missed a beat as he caught sight of a few tears welling up within the boy’s eyes “– do what’s necessary. But with time and practice you’ll become more accustomed to it.” He paused for a few moments to allow the boy time to regain his composure, but as the tears fell, the boy’s visor steamed up. He looked like a lost spaceman.