It is the year 2020. DNA testing is standardised. The data-base is building. At every hospital appointment, Doctor’s
consultation and Police enquiry, all are swabbed. All potential employees are tested prior to work start with the usual CRB checks. We are convinced we have liberty, freedom of speech and free will. It is a delight to see the test results… where do we come from? What are our risk factors? How will we die? Will our insurance premiums increase? Perhaps we will make a saving … work-out 4 times a week, non-smoker (for the last two generations!), a good diet – low fat, 5 portions of fruit and veg and a small glass of red wine a day. What now? One world. We need one world.

Hi. Let me introduce myself. I am Alice. My name originated from my Fathers side of the family. His Grandmother was Alice. I am a newly qualified nurse aged 23.

I was never swabbed before, so was really excited to learn of my DNA heritage, after my screening session from the NHS’s Occupational Health Department. I have always been a well behaved child whilst growing up, and have never really upset the system in any way. Guess my surprise when my CRB came back! There were dates, times and even CCTV footage of some of lesser … errr…. Moral moments. I blushed as I watched evidence of my 18^th birthday escapades. Whilst walking down Watford High Street, dated 13^th February 2015 at 23.57,

I was caught on camera. Oh my God! I am throwing up! I am soooo embarrassed. The implant that was inserted under my skin must have given the computer system my identity and triggered one of the cameras in the High Street. You know, I don’t even remember being that ill! I apologised most perfusely for the lapse in my usually impeccable behaviour to the Personnel Assistant at the Hospital. I even asked if she was sure it was me! Of course she clarified this as a fact. Her IM message stated the following:

‘The I.D. number was 009130297MP650685D666. Is that your implant number?’

I thought it was a good job she couldn’t see my face through the computer screen – I was as red as a beetroot! Thank God the NHS hadn’t yet gone ‘national’ on their installation web cam conferencing system yet. They wanted to go live on this by 2022. This was a Government Directive aiming to become more in touch with the people. It was felt that the NHS was losing its ‘personal touch’. In any case, I never bothered to install the software on my system to enable this.

I was shocked to see that despite not remembering this episode in my life that, indeed, this was the correct number. There was my birthdate and my national insurance number within the correlation with the usual other ‘random’ numbers, so I was in no doubt that the evidence of the mistermeaner was me. I, therefore, had no choice but to confirm by IM. To my relief, this did not go against me, as it was prior to my qualification and did not hinder me. Today I was a newly qualified nurse. As from today, I had to abide by the NNPCC ‘professional code of conduct’.

As a ‘bank nurse’, this should give me real practical experience of all Departments at Watford Park Hospital. I am now armed with all the theory - now for the experience! My group were never allowed to practice ‘hands on’ care during our course, so now I am itching to get my hands on those patients…. Insert catheters, take bloods and comfort those in need. This is what I have worked so hard for over the past three years!

‘Your swab has thrown up a lot of information about you, Alice. I have put a copy in the secure NHS e-mail address that we have set up for you’, an IM stated.

I eagerly opened this. To my surprise, it appeared that I was a product of many different breeds. I was a blood-stock of Aremenian, Jewish, Polish, Russian, Italian, French, Thai, German, Irish, Indian and … African! How can this be? I was shocked. Where does this new information fit in with my current passport? It states that I am White British! I was born in Watford, but my roots remain embedded within my very blood.

I finally met the Personnel Officer who was messaging me. Her name was Laura. As she uploaded the new information onto my implant, she told me how shocked she was to find how much of a mixed blood she was.

“Yes, it was definitely a revelation to me, too, Alice.” I quivered as she held my head stiffer, “oooooo, that’s a strange feeling!” I wormed. “Yes,” she smiled, “data transfer can have that affect on the fine nerves to the base of the neck. Try to keep still – it’s nearly done.

There. All your details are now logged into the system and into your chip.” She looked at her checklist: DNA, Origin of Spieces, CRB, NNEB authorisation number and the risk factor report. All checked. All cleared. “Well, it looks like you can start whenever you want to.” She turned to see me out. “I shall let the Nursing Bank Team know and they will be in touch. Here is a copy of the RF (Risk Factors) report. You can use this for insurance and medical purposes.” I thanked Laura for processing me and left, glancing at the sheet of paper she had given me.

It was an odd feeling to see that I had a high risk of cancers due to the Jewish line. I could even have indications of Aspergers Autism! I always thought I was a bit odd, socially! My African origin even made me susceptible to carrying sicle cell anaemia! Even just these two factors can increase my life insurance premiums! I guess this is the down side of genetics…. Oh well!

However, I got to thinking, if I am such a mixed race, genetically, surely there must be benefits. Then it came to me. Dual nationality! I can now prove that I have connections to the whole world and surely could apply for subsequent passports for these Countries. After all, I hold the evidence not only in my veins, but in writing!

Over the next few months, I settled well into my experience as a nurse. Bank nursing was varied and I didn’t have to commit to the usual restraints and responsibilities of regular staff. The pay was great too! On an hour by hour basis, I was taking home more than the nurses in charge – without the responsibility! Hehehe. During my times off, I would write to the various agencies of nationalities. This was very convenient as applications can be made online and all I needed to do was scan my chip for identity reasons. It took a lot of tooing and throwing with many rejections but the fact could not be disputed that I was, indeed, genetically varied in Nationality. Slowly, by slowly, each Government accepted me as duel Nationality. I now had instant access to the world – no visas, no paperwork – just an entry on my chip!

It was only three weeks. It felt like I had been hunted down like a fox. I had been cross-integregated whilst on duty and whilst off! I wish the press would just leave me alone! I had really stirred up a hornets nest, I thought. There, in black and white, little ole me was featured on the front pages of newspapers and magazines. Debates on T.V. – who are we really? Forums on the internet. Altogether, there was a lot of controversy over the genetic debate. Not only had I had this ‘overnight’ attention on me, it had a real impact at the hospital. Unfortunately, they had no choice but to temporarily suspend me – the press attention was an intrusion on patient care. The money had to come from somewhere, so I sold my story to ‘The Daily Sun’. This resulted in a whole sequence of events. People from all over the country were applying, the same way as me, for dual Nationalities. Governments were being bombarded with applications. Small outbreaks of riots started appearing all over the world as people of other nations latched onto the genetic migrational band-wagon. Great waves of movement from many different people from many different backgrounds started appearing in rich European countries. Applications for housing, benefits and health services started souring as many started claiming. I had become the subject of great social change just by accident and had to hide to avoid the might of Government anger. Here I was, a nurse from a working class background, having to run from MI5 and the likes of Interpol. The benefits, however, of being a high profile case, made a great story for the newspapers. It’s not nice to live in hiding, though. I know how Osama Bin Laden must feel now (yes, I know this comment is controversial, but I hope it will stimulate debate!). However, the papers kept me safe and informed the world of my progress. I felt that, somehow, I had been chosen in some random way - an advocate for one world, perhaps? I could see this unfolding before my eyes. It felt alien and strange to me but right, if you know my meaning? I was the catalyst to a reaction. I was a freedom fighter for one world. In the eyes of the world power, I was a terrorist! Can’t they see that in order for change to take affect, there has to be a period of chaos. Peace can’t be obtained without some level of suffering and even blood-shed. Look at what happened in Yugoslavia – now the blood-shed is over, there is peace, there is stablility! Now is the time for the people of the world to take charge, talk to each other and overpower the controllers – the abusers in positions of power. Those who think it is a right of theirs to take away our rights. They watch us. They control us. They label us, log us and standardise us. We don’t want to be behaviour modified. We want to speak for ourselves and put people first. We want to be free to empower. We want our liberty – not to be kidded that we have liberty. We aren’t fools, you know! In order for one world, there needs to be an understanding that what we seek, is what is already here. We are all multi-cultural. We are all immigrants. We need to live by two basic rules – to be happy and be kind.

Thinking about our liberty, I touched my neck. My implant. My number… 009130297MP650685D666

Revelation 13:15-18, "And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed. And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six."

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