The Carrion

David shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t understand.”

“Then look at it again; it’s all there!” Dr. Clayton insisted. “Look—Look here. The frontal lobe.” He pulled back the top of the bag and pointed. “The damn thing has a forehead!”

The frozen, severed head sat motionless in the black plastic.

David held his tie against his white shirt and bent over to see. “So it’s a freak. What’s your point?”

“What do you mean, what’s my point? We have to stop this. Now!”

“William, look, you have a—a localized deformity. One out of a thousand. It’s a freak. How many times have you seen cows born with six legs and two heads. Sell it to a carnival or something.”

“David, you’re not listening. It’s not a freak. I have two more calves from this same damn cow. They are alive, out in the barn. They both have enlarged frontal lobes. They both have increased fight or flight responses. They are aggressive!”

David smiled. “So cauterize their midbrains. They will be able to concentrate better and you can teach them to read or something. Hell, you’ll be famous.”

Joshua Thoreau, one member of the team of Naturalzyme’s attorneys, returned from the bathroom. “Just get rid of them,” he added.

“Did you get that shit off your tie?” David asked Joshua, looking back at the frozen head.

“Yeah. With as much money as we’re investing in this project, you would think someone could buy one of those hand dryers for the restroom.” He blotted at his tie with a paper towel.

Dr. Clayton shook his head. “You guys haven’t heard a word I have said, have you? The Natureszyme products are stimulating frontal lobe expansion. I’m sure of it.” The corporate men stared blankly at him. “This is not localized. It is genetic. It means the traits will be passed on. Genetically!”

“Whoa—Whoa, we’re not hiring a geneticist. That’s what we’re paying you for,” Joshua interjected.

“This is out of my league, guys. I—”

“We’re not hiring a geneticist,” he repeated.

David lifted the name-plate off the desk. “What does this say? ‘Dr. William Clayton, Veterinary Medicine.’ That means you know about cows, right?”

“There’s more to it than just goddamn cows. There’s the swine, horse, and the poultry feed. You have the water-conditioning products. It’s all tied in. Look—Look here.” Dr. Clayton pulled a book off his office shelf and slammed it onto the desk. “See this one? There are twenty more like it. All of them mirror my findings. Look.” He picked up the book and flipped it open to a dog-eared page. “Dietary intake of primates and early humanoids,” he read, “changed with the introduction of fire as a tool. Once the common dietary meats were cooked, amino acids within the flesh were changed, thus facilitating the stimulation of brain tissues, mitochondria, and further neuron myelination, possibly leading to early humanoid cognitive development— “ He looked up and saw the two men were casually looking around at the framed plaques and certificates that adorned his office walls. “You guys aren’t listening.” Slowly, he closed the book, took a seat behind his desk and sighed.

“Texas A&M University,” the attorney read, then nodded. “Doctorate?”

Dr. Clayton folded his arms and sunk back in his chair.

David turned around but remained silent. He wanted to watch the closing arguments from