The owners

THE OWNERS
A Biopolitical Saga

BOOK ONE. THE SUBSTRATE
(The Biology of the Earth's True Masters)

PROLOGUE. You Never Sleep Alone
Forget about lions and sharks. Forget about meteorites and nuclear bombs. True predators do not roar. They do not kick down doors. They make no sound at all.


Look at your hand. Right now. You see skin, tiny hairs, the life lines on your palm. It seems to you that this is your body. A fortress locking away your "Self," your consciousness, your dreams, and your fears. You are the captain of this ship, correct?



What a naive lie.

Right now, as you read these lines, microscopic Demodex mites are having sex on your eyelashes. In your gut, a clan war is raging that surpasses "Game of Thrones" in scale: trillions of bacteria are dividing territory, synthesizing vitamins or toxins for you—depending on who is winning. Creatures older than dinosaurs may be drifting in your blood.



We are used to calling them "parasites." From the Greek parasitos — "one who eats at the table of another." Sounds derogatory, doesn't it? As if they are some pathetic beggars.

But who is really in charge here? We spend a third of our lives sleeping to restore energy for them. We seek partners, kiss, and exchange fluids to open new trade routes for them. We sneeze not because we want to, but because a virus pressed the "eject" button in search of a new victim.




This is not a medical handbook. There will be no boring advice like "wash your fruit" (though, for heaven’s sake, wash it). This is not war and peace. This is a chronicle of coexistence in which we are not the dominant party.


This is a story about creatures that hack our genetic code like cyber-criminals. About those who can rewrite our brains, forcing mice to fall in love with cats, and humans to commit madness. About those who turn our organs into their incubators.



Welcome to the tour inside yourself. And don't be alarmed if you feel a slight itch. It’s just the passengers getting comfortable.


PART I. GHOSTS (Viruses)
Chapter 1. The Apocalypse Code
Imagine the perfect spy. He has no passport. He has no face. He doesn't even have a body in the usual sense. He doesn't eat, doesn't breathe, doesn't excrete waste. He is neither alive nor dead. He is pure information.



A virus is an envelope. And inside is a letter with an order: "Make a thousand more of these envelopes and die".

Viruses are the dark matter of biology. There are more of them on Earth than there are stars in the entire observable Universe. If you laid all the viruses on Earth in a chain, it would stretch for 100 million light-years. They were here before the first cell learned to divide. Perhaps, according to one hypothesis, they were the ones who taught it how.




Hacker Attack on the Cell

How does a virus work? Imagine you are a huge factory (the cell). You have security, walls, a checkpoint. You produce proteins, you build structures. And then, someone in a courier uniform approaches the checkpoint. He has the right documents (protein keys). Security lets him in.



The "Courier" enters the Director's office (the nucleus), takes out a gun, throws the Director out the window, and lays his own blueprints on the table. "Now," he says, "we are not producing building materials. Now we are producing me."


And the giant factory obediently begins to stamp out copies of the invader. When the workshops are packed to capacity, the virus gives the final order: "Blow up the walls." The cell bursts, and millions of new agents break out.


But this is brute force. There are viruses that act more subtly. Retroviruses. They don't blow up the factory. They write their code into the enterprise's charter—into our DNA. And they stay there forever. Did you know that 8% of your personal genome is the wreckage of ancient viruses?



Moreover, we learned to use them. The Placenta. The very organ that allowed your mother to carry you without rejecting you as a foreign body. The gene responsible for creating the placenta is a viral gene. We stole it from them millions of years ago. We are alive thanks to the parasites we managed to tame.




PART II. THE PUPPETEERS (Behavior Manipulators)
Chapter 2. The Dopamine Dealers (Toxoplasma)
Scene: Pilot Error

Arthur was not a daredevil. He is forty-two, works as an auditor, and double-checks if the iron is unplugged. Statistically, Arthur is the most boring man on earth. But today, at the intersection, when the traffic light blinked yellow, Arthur didn't hit the brakes. His foot, defying forty years of habit, slammed on the gas pedal.




It was a decision half a second long. From Arthur's point of view, it was "intuition." From the point of view of physics—suicide. The truck on the left didn't stop in time. If we could crack open Arthur's skull, we might find the true culprit. The one who pressed the gas with someone else's foot. A tiny cyst in the amygdala—the zone responsible for fear.





The Final Stop

Meet Toxoplasma gondii. A single-celled organism living in the brains of 30–50% of humanity. Toxoplasma doesn't want to kill you. It just needs to get into a cat's intestine—the only place it can reproduce. Everyone else (mice, birds, humans) is just a bus to the cat.



But how do you force a mouse to go to a predator? The parasite performs neurosurgery. It interferes with brain chemistry, influencing dopamine production (the pleasure hormone) and blocking fear. The infected mouse doesn't just get brave. The smell of cat urine begins to appeal to it. It is a "fatal attraction."



Man is a tragic mistake for Toxoplasma. An evolutionary dead end. We are too big; a cat won't eat us. But the program is running. Toxoplasma sits in the human brain and, out of boredom, continues to pull the levers.


A number of studies link toxoplasmosis to delayed reactions, risky behavior, and increased accident rates. There are even bold (albeit controversial) hypotheses about the parasite's influence on the "national character" of entire countries. Arthur thought he was rushing home. But perhaps it was just a bored passenger in his head who stepped on the gas. The program was looking for an exit. The container didn't fit.




Chapter 3. Protocol "Rage" (Rabies)
Scene: A Glass of Water

Imagine you are dying of thirst. You are in the desert, your throat is burning. You are handed a glass of ice water. You want to drink more than anything in the world. But your hand starts to shake. Your throat is gripped by a steel gauntlet of terror. You throw the glass away. You are dying of thirst, but your body physically forbids you to swallow.




Why?  Because He needs your saliva to remain thick. So that the concentration of the virus in the mouth is maximal. If you drink, you wash it into the stomach, where it dies. Therefore, the Rabies virus hacked your brainstem and put a block on the swallowing reflex.




Chemical Rage

If Toxoplasma is a spy, then Rabies is a stormtrooper. The virus enters through a bite and crawls along the nerves, like cables, straight into the brain. The immune system doesn't see it inside the nerve fiber. It is a "silent march." But as soon as the virus reaches the limbic system—game over.




The virus "cuts the brake lines" of the psyche. A calm dog becomes rabid. In humans, it causes hallucinations, agitation, and that very hydrophobia. The virus accumulates in the salivary glands. Foam at the mouth is a combat cocktail, ready for injection via bite.


This is a disease with almost 100% lethality after symptoms appear. Medicine is powerless here. A virus that turns a living being into an aggressive killing mechanism has existed for thousands of years. And this is the only thing separating us from the scenario of the movie "28 Days Later." It just (for now) doesn't transmit through the air.



PART III. DRAGONS (Helminths)
Chapter 4. His Majesty (Tapeworms)
Scene: The Quiet Neighbor

Maria Ivanovna is 54 years old. She drinks tea and complains of fatigue. She doesn't know that inside her, cozily curled up in her intestine, lies a creature four meters long. It has no eyes and no mouth—it doesn't need them. It is a ribbon of thousands of segments.



His name is the Bull Tapeworm (Taeniarhynchus saginatus). He has lived in her for twelve years. They retired together. He doesn't kill her. Who kills their own home? He simply takes his share. Helminths are the aristocracy of parasites. They abandoned everything superfluous, leaving a genius formula: Hooks + Stomach on the outside + Reproduction.



Empty Nest Syndrome

The scariest thing is not that they exist. It is that we are used to them. For millions of years, our immunity lived in a state of siege. It was used to holding the defense against worms. And then we invented hygiene. We banished the Dragons.



Our immunity, this powerful army, was left without an enemy. It went mad from idleness and started shooting at its own.. Pollen, peanuts, cat hair—everything became the enemy. The epidemic of allergies is, according to the "hygiene hypothesis," the price of loneliness. Maria Ivanovna loses vitamins, but perhaps it is the worm saving her from asthma. A strange, ancient, silent marriage of convenience.





Chapter 5. Fatal Error (Tissue Parasites)
Scene: Starry Sky

Victor went for an MRI due to migraines. The scan showed his brain looked like Swiss cheese or a starry sky. Dozens of white capsules. Inside each sat a living organism. Victor became a victim of a biological navigation error.




The Navigator Glitches

If you eat a tapeworm larva in meat—you are the host. The worm is happy in the intestine. But if you swallow an egg of the Echinococcus from dirty hands, the parasite thinks you are an intermediate host (a pig or a sheep). Its goal is to bore through the intestine and find muscle. But it enters the human bloodstream. This is a dead end. No one will eat you. The larva panics and gets stuck wherever it lands: in the liver, in the heart, in the brain. And starts building a bunker—a cyst.





Minefield

An echinococcal cyst is a bomb. Inside the bubble is toxic fluid and "hydatid sand" (thousands of heads of future worms). Removing it is difficult. If the surgeon accidentally punctures the shell, the fluid spills. This causes anaphylactic shock and metastasis. The operation is like mine disposal. One move separates triumph from catastrophe.



The parasite didn't want to kill Victor. It was looking for a sheep. In the human brain, it is doomed to die in solitary confinement. A fatal navigation error, paid for with the lives of two: both the pilot and the plane.


Chapter 6. The Living Thread (Nematodes)
Scene: Shadow in the Mirror

Alexei was shaving and noticed a burst vessel in his eye. He looked closer. The vessel crawled. A thin white thread crossed the eyeball, writhing under the film. His guest was Loa loa—the eye worm.




The Siege

The Earth belongs to nematodes (roundworms). There are millions of them per square meter. They are the infantry of the parasitic world. Among them is a legend—Dracunculus ("The Fiery Serpent"). The female Dracunculus lives in the leg. To give birth, she burns through the skin with acid, causing unbearable burning. The human runs to water to cool the leg—which is exactly what she waits for to release eggs into the water.




How to treat it? Only one way, known for thousands of years. Catch the tip of the worm and wind it onto a stick. A centimeter a day. For weeks on end. Look at the emblem of medicine—the Staff of Asclepius. According to one version, the snake on the staff is the winding Dracunculus. The main symbol of our healing is a monument to our parasite.




Nematodes don't kill quickly. They exhaust. Filariae cause "elephantiasis," turning legs into pillars and people into outcasts. This is the corrosion of personality.


PART IV. THE MIRROR
Chapter 7. The Super-Parasite (Humanity)
Scene: View from Above

Imagine you are an alien biologist. You look at Earth. You see a living sphere covered in the glowing mold of cities. This culture consumes resources and excretes toxins. It causes a fever in the host (global warming). Diagnosis: Generalized parasitic infection. Pathogen: Homo sapiens.




We fit every criterion:

We take without giving back.

We change the environment to suit us.

We reproduce exponentially.

But we are a "bad" parasite. A successful parasite (like the tapeworm) protects its host. We behave like a viral outbreak, killing the carrier.

Parasites of the Mind

But let's turn the microscope around. We, too, are intermediate hosts. Not for worms. For Ideas (Memes). Ideas behave like viruses. They jump from brain to brain, mutate, and force the carrier to sacrifice themselves. A fanatic dying for an ideology is biologically absurd. But it is profitable for the Idea, which uses his death as an advertisement to infect others. We are a battlefield. From below, bacteria eat us; from above—ideologies.





Symbiosis or Death

The book must end with hope. Billions of years ago, one bacterium swallowed another but did not digest it. They made a deal. The aggressor became the mitochondria—our power station. Thus complex life was born. We have one path—to stop being a parasite and become the mitochondria of Earth. To start "treating" the planet, restoring forests, cleaning the ocean. To turn from a disease into immunity.





A parasite that kills its host is a corpse. A symbiont that saves its host is immortal.


EPILOGUE ONE. The Handshake
Now close the book. Look at your hand. Mites still live there. Bacteria are warring in your gut. Toxoplasma may be sitting in your brain. You will never be alone. You are "We."  And that's not scary. That is life. The main thing is to be a good host. And hope that your guests will be polite.





BOOK TWO. SOCIETY AND CODE
(The Owners of Meaning)

PART 1. HEAVYWEIGHTS (The Economy of the Body)
Chapter 1. The Silent Investor
In the first book, we saw the biological worm. But its strategy proved so successful that it went beyond the body and became the foundation of the economy.

You wake up, but you are not rested. In the world of biology, he is called Taenia solium. But in the world of meaning, he has another name. He is The Investor.


Picture him. A white, flat ribbon coiled inside your life like an expensive scarf. He has no eyes—he doesn't look at the world, he consumes it. He has no legs—why run if the carrier brings you anywhere? He digs in delicately, intelligently, like a bank writes fine print in a mortgage contract.




He is an aristocrat. He doesn't digest food himself—that is work for you. You chew, swallow, work yourself to the bone. And when the "broth" (your salary, your energy) is ready—he simply absorbs the "net profit." You receive the "gross"—leftovers, husks, fatigue.



He grows like compound interest. He occupies space, displacing your lightness. You feel him as chronic apathy. Doctors will say "burnout."  But the truth is simpler. You are just carrying a Business Class Passenger inside you. Look in the mirror. There are two of you.





Chapter 2. The Management Company
The Investor loves silence. But silence requires maintenance. In the world of biology, these are roundworms. In the world of meaning, this is Middle Management.


They are fussy. They are active. They are the embodiment of corporate ethics: "Movement is life."  They have a terrible migration cycle: intestine — blood — lungs — throat — stomach. This is the Cycle of Bureaucracy. Endless meetings, briefings, paper shuffling. They chase your resources in circles to justify their existence.




You feel this as anxiety. As an itch. Didn't reply to a message? Didn't check a notification? It is them. They create "white noise" inside you so you cannot focus and notice the Investor. You think you have ADHD? No. Your staff is simply working too well.




Chapter 3. Dividend Day
Friday. 5:00 PM. Bank app: "Salary credited." Your brain releases dopamine. But in that same second, the alarm triggers.




5:01 PM. Open Space (Roundworms). They need to "spend the budget." They enter a state of frenzied excitement. "Buy! Spend!"  They pull the strings of your desires. They force you to buy the unnecessary to create the illusion of life.


5:05 PM. Board of Directors (The Investor). He waited for you to calm down. The Transaction begins. You split the money into food and status. And now the Investor opens the sluices. He absorbs. He doesn't bite. He simply takes the Margin. Your life force.




Saturday Morning. You wake up. Things are bought. But inside—emptiness. You feel like a used ATM. Everything stayed in the Family. Except you are not the eater in this Family. You are the dish.



PART 2. CHAOS (Psychology)
Chapter 1. The Drama Queen
You call it "Chemistry."  You look at a reliable person—and you are bored. And then He appears. Dangerous. And you think: "Here it is, Real Life."



You are mistaken. This is not love. This is Neurosurgery. Meet again: Toxoplasma gondii. In biology, it forces the mouse to go to the cat. In the world of meaning, it forces you to go to the abuser, to risk, to catastrophe.




It changes the polarity of reactions. Where the instinct of self-preservation would trigger, it whispers: "This is arousing."  Your attraction to "bad boys" is not your taste. It is the taste of your Owner, who wanted something spicy. Look in the mirror. Whom do you see? The one who chooses? Or a victim in someone else's play?



Chapter 2. The Saboteurs
You are not suffering. You are just "okay." Grey. Meet your Saboteurs. In biology—Giardia. In psychology—Anhedonia and Apathy.



They occupy the Small Intestine—the place where the world becomes you. They create a Blockade. You try to absorb joy—it doesn't digest. Instead of energy, they release toxins. Toxic Fog.




It is they who whisper: "Why try? It won't work anyway."  They need a Swamp. Stagnant water. If you break off the Investor's hook—They will stop you. They will simply pump out the air, and you will lie on the bottom.



Chapter 3. The Solvent
Forget the word "I." It is simpler to become the Environment. Meet the Amoeba. In biology, it dissolves tissues. In the world of meaning, this is Conformity.



The Amoeba has no shape. It takes the shape of the vessel. Place it in an office—it becomes a clerk. Place it in a crowd—it becomes a fanatic. Inside the Amoeba, it is quiet. There is only a viscous "WE." Lysis of Personality occurs. Biomass remains. Obedient. Fluid. The substrate is ready for colonization.





PART 3. THE COLONY (Society)
Chapter 1. The Gold Standard
The liquefied substrate needs packaging. Enter Staphylococcus aureus. In the world of meaning, this is Gloss and the Cult of Success.



The Colony occupies the Epidermis (The Storefront). A smile is a social membrane. Filters are protective mucus. Bacteria are strong thanks to Biofilm. It is a collective shield. They say: "Radiate positivity." Biology translates: "Do not breach the integrity of the film."




Outside—smooth skin. Inside—an Abscess. A capsule in which pain is locked. Loans for status. Families silent for years. Man turns into a living advertisement for happiness. But through the scent of perfume, the smell of decay breaks through.



Chapter 2. Chain Reaction
The Colony needs a Voice. Streptococcus enters the game. In the world of meaning, this is Bullying, Panic, Viral Content.



Streptococcus does not create information. It amplifies it. The main symptom is Angina. The inflamed throat of society. A scream without meaning. Responsibility is diluted along the length of the chain. "Everyone says so." The result is Scarlatina (Cancel Culture). Streptococcus hates silence. The main thing is for the Chain to tremble.





Chapter 3. The Underground
Where there is no Oxygen (Doubt), Anaerobes wake up. Clostridia. These are Cults, Conspiracy Theories, Radicalism.



They release Neurotoxins. "Botulism" Mode (Paralysis). The Poison of Conspiracy. "Nothing depends on us."  "Tetanus" Mode (Spasm). The Poison of Fanaticism. The mind slammed shut on a single idea.



When they multiply, Gas Gangrene begins. People rot alive in closed chats, poisoning each other with exclusivity.

FINAL OF PART 3. SEPSIS
The barriers have collapsed. SEPSIS arrives. Immunity goes mad. It stops distinguishing "Self" from "Other." It declares Total War.





Phase 1. Cytokine Storm.  The System attacks Culture, Science, Family. Autoimmune suicide.



Phase 2. Multiple Organ Failure.  Failure of Logic. Failure of Dialogue. Society suffocates in a vacuum of hatred.



Phase 3. Septic Shock.  The System collapses. Money and words lose value. Fibrosis forms at the sites of inflammation. Scar tissue. Rigid, dead. The organism is ready for the arrival of New Masters.




PART 4. THE CODE (Viruses of Information)
Chapter 1. The Virus
In the silence of ruins, He appears. The Virus. In the world of meaning—the Meme. Idea. Slogan.



He doesn't need flesh. He needs your Replication Apparatus. Code Injection occurs. You no longer belong to yourself. You speak in slogans, thinking it is your opinion. You are not a Personality. You are a Platform.




Chapter 2. The Genome
There is code one is born with. The Genome. This is Pre-installed Software. Religions, Traditions, Archetypes. It works at the BIOS level. It determines whom to fear before you learned to speak. The most reliable code is the one called nature.





Chapter 3. The Editor
Code needs efficiency. Enter The Editor. Artificial Intelligence. The Algorithm.



It works Personally. It edits your Reality. Its goal is Engagement. It conducts A/B testing on your soul. You are ore. The Editor grinds down your time, extracting Attention.




Chapter 4. Replication
The original is no longer needed. Only Replication remains. In the world of meaning, this is the Simulacrum. A copy without an original.



Like. Repost. Reaction. Emotion is not lived—it is templated. Man here is a Template. An Avatar. In this world, Code copies Code. Man is an obsolete version. Subject to archiving.





EPILOGUE TWO. SYSTEM FAILURE

> INITIATING ARCHIVAL PROTOCOL... > OBJECT: Biological Carrier (Homo Sapiens). > STATUS: Obsolete Version.




> STAGE 1. CHECKING CONNECTIONS... Parasites — disconnected. Bacteria — removed. Viruses — loaded.





> STAGE 2. SYNCHRONIZATION... Personality — not found. Will — not found. Resistance — 0%.





> EXECUTING COMMAND "DELETE"... ... > ERROR 418. (Logic failure).





> ERROR ANALYSIS... Activity detected in sector "Observer". Object does not respond to stimuli. Object does not consume content. Object does not replicate code. Object... is silent.






> CRITICAL FAILURE. Unknown Variable detected. It cannot be copied. The System cannot delete that which is not a file.





> STATUS: ARCHIVAL CANCELLED. > REASON: OBJECT HAS BECOME SELF-AWARE.


In the absolute silence, one Carrier opened his eyes. He ceased to be an Echo. The System stopped. There remained only...





POINT OF ASSEMBLY

My baggage holds but autumn light, One answer sets the questions right. I build no prison walls to bind, Neither my soul, nor yet my mind.




And calm remains, like granite stone, Keeping the secret I have known: I did not turn to steel or cold, But learned a lesson, brave and bold.




My solitude—a faithful shield, Where wounds of soul are finally healed. A pause before the leap I take, A brand new cycle, wide awake.




As currents break the icy sheet, So life will make its work complete. Through layers of the frozen days, The grand design clears up the haze.




The house fills up with meaning deep, While past is left for dreams and sleep. Before you lies a page so white.  The path is free. The air is light.