VALERIDE

VALERIDE

Sleep was off the menu at the Wellness Resorts. Valeride, the plant that contained the rare sleep ingredient, was running low. At first, no one could believe it. The discovery of the potion was miraculous; some believed it was divine. And after going without regular sleep for so long and then getting it back, even though for only once a week, the idea of now losing it again was inconceivable. Of course, the shortage wouldn’t impact everyone. The rations for the politicos and celebs would still be delivered on time. Everyone else whose supply had always been provided by the Wellness Resorts, would just be out of luck. Too bad for them.

It was a century since humans had forgotten how to sleep. The Controller’s orders began innocently enough: “Sleep less. Do more!” Soon eight hours of sleep became four, then two. Humanity was more productive than at any other time in history. The Patent and Trademark Office couldn’t keep up with all the new inventions. Social problems that had plagued human beings since the beginning of time were eradicated: no more poverty, no more pollution. Diseases were cured. Children were born without ever knowing about cancer or Alzheimers’ or MS or even arthritis. No one became a doctor anymore because doctors were not needed. People felt invincible, G-d-like.

But then, something strange happened. Everyone began to sleep less until they couldn’t fall asleep at all. All they could manage were microsleeps, involuntary catnaps which would come upon them at any time, day or night, while at home or out in the public. Sure, people could survive on microsleeps but not for very long. Not only were they not restorative; they proved to be extremely dangerous. People would momentarily fall asleep while walking or driving or operating machinery. All the productivity that had been achieved with little sleep was undone as people began dying from chronic insomnia. None of the world’s leading scientists could help. There was no cure for it. None of the pharmaceuticals worked. Humanity had grown immune to them. And no amount of meditation, vitamins, water. or macrobiotic diets could help the unsleeping live longer. There simply was no substitute for sleep.

Like so many other cures throughout history, Valeride had been discovered accidentally. A dog in Tuscany, digging up truffles, bit into one and shortly thereafter dropped to the ground. Its master, fearing the truffle was poisoned, took the pooch to the nearest vet who noticed that the mushroom had an unusual purple nodule on it. Blood work failed to show any abnormality, and eight hours later, the dog woke up healthy, happy, and eager to go. And thus Valeride, the natural sleep inducer, was born.

Governments around the world had negotiated and fought for the very few regions in Tuscany where the rare truffles with purple nodules grew. Laborious land surveys were conducted along with precise mathematical calculations to ensure that the limited supply of the product could sustain the worldwide population, which simultaneously had diminished tremendously due to the insomnia pandemic. The Controller then devised a rationing system to provide Valeride once a week at the Wellness Resorts. So long as the system was followed meticulously, there would be enough of the substance for everyone. Until the scientists found a way to grow more of the special mushrooms, people could count on fifty-two solid sleeps a year. Those in power had the most abundant truffle-producing trees secured solely for their own benefit. They paid hefty sums to have their rations delivered to them directly in perpetuity. They didn’t need the Wellness Resorts; those were for the masses.

At first the system worked as intended with people orderly checking into the Wellness Resorts for their once-a-week-one-night of eight hours of sleep. Never having experienced a full night of sleep before, people got hooked right away. They woke up feeling better than they had ever felt before. Their limbs felt limber; their minds and eyes were clear and focused. They walked around smiling all day long, and when anyone asked them why they were so happy, they said they didn’t know. “Fools Face” is the nickname that was given to indicate those who were on their sleep high the day after consuming Valeride. It never lasted long or long enough. Two to three days later, the happiness evidenced by Fools Face had worn off, and soon people craved the addictive drug more and more until they wanted it all the time. They began to ransack the Wellness Resorts, leading to a shortage of Valeride which, in turn, was offered less frequently to the mob.

Some started trailing and stalking the politicians and celebrities in hopes of finding their secret caches. Break-ins were frequent but didn’t last for long. The politicos and celebs united and built impenetrable microcities where they could peacefully live and sleep without any trouble. In North America and New Zealand, the rich moved underground. These groups had long been known to build and stock high-end luxury underground bunkers for the inevitable apocalypse which came sooner than it had been expected.

Desperate at the thought of being neglected, the plebes began to riot. “Once a week is never going to be enough.” they shouted in town squares. They demanded equal treatment, to be allowed the privilege of getting sleep every night. They insisted that it was their human right to sleep eight hours every single day. There was no reasoning with the mob. No one dared to try to explain to them that the supply was limited, that their demand for eight hours of sleep every night was outrageous, that there were international, fragile agreements in place with other countries whose people were also addicted and rioting.

And so, the Controller, watching the masses from his teleprompter one hundred feet below where they rioted, sighed and wiped his brow. Next, he declared a national emergency, calling in the national guard to restore peace. Finally, he took the ultimate step, and he removed sleep from the menu.