04 PROPAGATION
UN Headquarters, New York
For the past two hours delegates and representatives had taken the podium and been rattling off their list of complaints, accusations, and recommendations to the executives of the World Food Programme. A long line of Ambassadors to the United Nations had been going over their governments’ critiques of the World Food Programme in front of the Panel. Speeches varied from praise to outright claims of racism, from ten minutes to thirty. Manjak sat through the tiresome tirades and the self-helping praise mostly because he had nothing better to do. He also realized that all of the information given at this meeting could be very useful in the context of understanding Bao’s alleged large corruption underneath the surface. Feng was naturally situated at the head of the committee listening to the representatives’ speeches.
The ambassador of Mali came next; this time it was an appraisal. He believed that, “The WFP is doing what no other humanitarian organization seems capable of doing”, and that, “We are all eternally grateful for your help during the food crisis last year, despite some problems such as slowness of transport and lack of adequate security at the airport”. Manjak privately held that the UN shouldn’t be charged with security at the airport, but that should be the role of the government in question. Maybe that policy should be re-examined. UN troops would only be sent if there was a high risk, but apparently a large amount of food had also been stolen by gangs and corrupt officials in Mali.
Manjak kept in mind that these criticisms would pale compared to the criticism he would receive from these same representatives when they reviewed his strategic plan for the next two years. The World Food Programme, despite many difficulties and logistics problems, is seen by many of the Third World’s nations as a much more effective program than the FAO. The FAO was increasingly seen by many countries as becoming obsolete, expensive, and downright useless. Manjak silently hopes that that sentiment has not spread to the Senior Management team, but confidently believes that even if it did, his proposal may change their minds. One of his major proposals includes bringing the World Food Programme back under the umbrella of the FAO, instead of acting as a separate organization. The WFP is directly responsible for administering and delivering the Food Aid shipments to other countries, and Manjak believes that if under FAO not only would that shorten the administrative hierarchy, but it would also once again give FAO a direct hand in food aid. In recent years FAO focused more on pro-active programs such as pest management, food price initiatives, local food growth programs, and the World Food summit.
The meeting concluded after three hours, Manjak spending the last hour on the phone with Pereira going over updates from around the world. Bao Feng walks over as the committee disbands, asking him, “What do you think?” “Hmmm, other than you’re getting credit for what we should be doing? This is the usual. Its always the same story, as if they expect us to be able to load those planes any faster.” “I know. I try to make a schedule beforehand and give it to the local governments. They are rarely satisfied however, even when they know exactly when each shipment should arrive. And our planes are usually on time!” “Of course!”, replies Trip with a supportive smile. Barring atmospheric disturbances and the occasional hurricane, he knows that Bao would make her appointments on schedule. That would include delivering supplies when she promised she would.
He doesn’t however, know how she would react to his new strategic plan; and he doesn’t feel like finding out right now. What if she doesn’t like it? She has gotten very used to independent functioning, if the FAO were to butt in. . . movement to the left catches Trip’s attention, derailing his process of thoughts. It is Zihgneg Nahk, Deputy Secretary-General. Known as being a relatively quiet man who would work behind the scenes letting others get the spotlight, the short man with short straight black hair is generally regarded by most with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. His eyes, however, dart everywhere when he goes around, as if he is trying to immediately take into account everything about his new environment. The blonde-haired Swede Hartaagnaan usually got most of the world’s attention, but to Manjak at least it seemed that most of the intelligence of the organization was due to the efforts of Nahk, and not Hartaagnaan, who was more known as a frequent jet-setter and centerpiece of media spotlight.
“Good morning, sir. How are we doing today?”, inquires Trip politely to his relatively obscure boss. “Quite well, Mr. Manjak.”, comes the reply in his soft, raspy voice. “I have been here at the meeting over the last hour, as you may have noticed.” Manjak hadn’t noticed until two minutes ago. “I am confident that Mrs. Feng is doing her utmost, I believe that you recommended her for the position in the first place.” “That is correct, sir, I did. I knew she was right for the job.” “You choose wisely, Mr. Manjak. So. You are here to present a new plan to Haartaagnan?” “Actually, yes. I should be meeting with him and yourself, sir, in less than two hours.” “Yes. Very well then, and good luck. See you in two hours.” Shaking his hand again, Manjak sees the Deputy Secretary-General leave the conference room for some other location with his two aides in tow. Bao has in the meantime been in conversation with the UN Ambassador from Indonesia, which seemed to Manjak to be pointed and in heat. Deciding to get lunch, an activity that always brought him great joy since he was more aware of food security than most people in the world, Manjak headed towards the Secretariat cafeteria located the next floor down.
Manjak, who generally only had one large meal a day, tried to enjoy the turkey sandwish and salad while going over his prepared speech to the Senior Management Group. I really hate the Senior Mangement. All they do is talk, and then they may deny me the money needed for my reforms. Bao is ok, but as she said –can I trust the rest? His phone rings – who would be calling me now?- prompting Trip to answer in the middle of a mouthful. “Hello? Trip Manjak, FAO.” “Trip!”, comes the all-too familiar voice of his wife Sofia, “How is New York? Did you see my family yet?” “Are you talking about me? Or Luis?” Trip hears Sofia laugh over the line, “You!! Well, I was referring to Luis.” “I can’t get out of the city, honey, and you know that. Whenever I don’t have a meeting I’m invited to a new one. Its really rather fascinating.” “I can imagine. So when are you going to be back?” “I should be back in Rome in about two more days. That’s 48 hours querida” “You are sooo not funny. Kisses.” Manjak blows a kiss into the phone and hangs up. He forgot to tell her about his return ticket as usual, but since she used to work for the UN she is usually forgiving of his quack, unpredictable and abrupt schedules. The twins weren’t nearly as forgiving as their mother, until they turned 16 and started enjoying his time away from home. Which is why Manjak made sure he was at home as much as often during weekends.
After finishing the rest of his lunch Manjak arrives in front of the Economic and Social Council Chamber one hour ahead of schedule. His massive 120 page strategy outline is in his left hand, while his laptop is held firmly by his right. He enters the Chamber and sits down, setting up his laptop. The Chamber, designed by Swedish architect Swen Markelius, uses red Swedish pine wood for the room’s walls, railings, and doors. Pipes and venting are uncovered on the ceiling, done intentionally by Markelius to symbolize that the UN’s social and economic work is never fully finished. The chamber is rumored to be Hartaagnaan’s favorite chamber, but whether this is due to the unorthodox architecture or the fact that the architect was also a Swede is unknown. The layout includes a small central table with seating for fourteen flanked on three sides by rows of seats for members of the council and onlookers. On the fourth and final side lies the raised seven-seat table reserved for the directors at the conference. After forty minutes the Senior Management starts appearing in droves, including the Directors for the Refugee Agency, peacekeeping Operations, Field Support, Management, Safety and Security, Environmental Programme, and Economic and Social Affairs, along with their aides. Bao Feng arrives with the rest of the Secretariat. Hartaagnan arrived in the Council Chamber
after another ten minutes, taking his seat at the center of the long table on the raised dais. Manjak uploaded his presentation to the computer and turned on the projector, allowing the screen in the corner of the chamber to hum to life. The directors at the head table would have to seat slanted to their left to view Manjak’s visual presentation, but they would also see him when they sat looking straight. Manjak paces around the central table, anxiously waiting to begin his presentation.
The moment Hartaagnaan takes his seat he motions for all present to quiet down and be seated. “This is an official meeting of the Secretariat, to assess a proposed new direction for the Food and Agriculture Organization. Deputy Director-General Manjak, please begin. We are listening to your proposal.” Eagerly, Manjak sums up his energy and gestures around the room with his hands, “Members of the Secretariat. Over the years it has become apparent to myself and many of us at the FAO that discrepancies have started to occur between our objectives and goals, and what we have actually been accomplishing so far. We have created many new programs, spent much new money, but all to what avail? I am here to present to you first, the evidence that FAO may reduce its spending on non-critical programs by up to 30%, and use this to expand programs that require more funding but have not been receiving it.” I’m throwing you a bone here, Zafir. Manjak clicks to move the slide presentation along. “We have created programs as wide in range from the International Alliance against Hunger, TeleFood, the Goodwill Ambassadors, and an Investment Center. The goals of these programs are worthy, yet many of them are overlapping in nature. If larger, more centralized agencies are created from numerous smaller ones, more resources and funding can be devoted to solving problems than if these resources and funding is split. Another problem is the splitting of critical components of the FAO into splinter groups that, while effective, would be better off as part of a larger, more resourceful organization.” The slide that Manjak puts up on the screen shows a huge spider’s web of competing interactions amongst the various agencies of the FAO.
“I propose that FAO be reorganized into three primary branches. The first will be the SOFS- the Support and Funding Services. The second will be an R & D division. The final will be the WFP- World Food Programme.” Manjak pauses to take a sip of water, noticing that Feng is now paying rapt attention to his every word. The rest of the Secretariat members are also fixating him with stares, some blandly shocked at his blunt proposal, others shielding their thoughts through misty eyes. All are focused on his every word. “The SOFS should be an integration of all fundraising programs, including celebrity sponsorship, media relations, concerts, to government grants. Every bit of support regardless of its source should be coordinated under one agency. Regardless of whether we talk about earmarked funds or donations for NGOs, one office to coordinate that and coordinate codes of funding, support, summits, conferences, and the like. Good examples of current programs that fall under these categories are Telefood and Goodwill Ambassadors. The SOFS will also be responsible for maintaining the Codex Alimentarius, since codes of standards for food labeling, additives, pesticides, and food safety are all administrative support issues. FAOSTAT will also be the responsibility of the SOFS. This will make SOFS the largest of the three branches, but should take many burdens off the other two.”
“The R & D Group will have a different task. Their purpose will be to coordinate with agricultural research corporations, biotechnology companies, and NGOs to develop new ways of strategic problem solving. Basically, covering any problems from increasing crop output to dealing with pests and agricultural diseases. I consider there to be overlap between these fields, they are all long-term problems that have no short-term solutions. Joint-programs with local governments and farmers will be headed by the R & D division. Construction of local farming industry, field assessments, and independent agricultural research will all be headed by this department. The purpose of this is to diversify our activities and find common solutions to common problems. It would be wasteful not to combine say, the United States’ agricultural research efforts with that of South Africa. Basically, all development aid will be the responsibility of R&D.”
“The final goal is important relating to the first. FAO needs one rapid-response agency, not a hundred.” Some heads nod silently in response to Manjak's jab. “The World Food Programme should be brought completely under our mandate and their resources and budgets integrated with our own. Its staff and equipment should be part of FAO but as a separate agency. Rapid response to flooding, earthquakes, famines, warfare, and other catastrophes can be accomplished with The WFP. I must also take into account that in recent years the WFP has become the largest humanitarian organization in the world, and is the primary arm of the United Nations in distributing food aid to victims of natural disasters and warzones. The WFP will continue to draw on its current sources to provide the necessary food to be used as food aid.”
“FAO is the world’s primary organization for food and agriculture. Despite the WFP’s budget being over ten times our own, we feel that the WFP’s missions is also covered by our own jurisdiction and that by merging our combined resources we would be better able to respond to emergencies around the world. While FAO has some control through executive appointments, we feels that it will be better if WFP is integrated a branch of the FAO, as it has been during the 1950’s. This arrangement, though it may seem burgeoning at the beginning, will soon streamline the process and speed at which FAO not only responds to emergencies, but also the speed at which we can foster development in the countries that need it. The full proposal has been submitted to each and every one of you and should be available on your computers for further reference.”
Manjak takes a break, trying to catch the eye of everyone seated around the chamber. Executives of one agency or another start to discuss quietly amongst themselves the implications of Manjak’s request, noting the vast changes that it will bring. Veiled underneath is the stealthy accusation that the current Director-General isn’t nearly doing as much as Manjak would like to, and Manjak’s thought that he should be replaced. Once the whispering reaches an more audible level, Secretary-General Hartaagnan calls for order in the room, before speaking aloud. “First of all, thank you to Director Manjak for your time and consideration in preparing this proposal. Your proposition for restructuring FAO will also be reviewed by the General Assembly. The Conference of Member States will decide whether this is to be approved or not. That is all.” Hartaagnaan gets up from his seat, coming over to Manjak. The rest of the council disperse slowly as each heads to their own destination. Hartaagnaan comes close to Manjak as the men shake hands, softly telling Manjak that, “A good idea. I hope your proposal is approved. It is worth a try. But many will not like it.” “I know that, sir. I need more authority to enact the changes. I also need the Conference’s approval for re-integrating WFP.” “This is true. I will work my best to see that we overcome the obstacles facing your proposal.” With that Hartaagnan leaves Manjak to the rest of the management team, who swoop down to offer quick tastes of their thoughts on his proposal. Comments such as “questionable, but possibly do-able”, to “about time FAO starts getting stuff done” illustrate the range of opinions held by the Secretariat’s executive staff.
Not surprisingly, Bao Feng is amongst the last of the Secretariat to speak with Manjak. Manjak is surprised at her lightly toned surprise. “I liked that. Quick, concise, and to the point.” Trip couldn’t read her expression but knew that this talk would be very important if his plan was to succeed. “And about that point, I didn’t know you wanted WFP under your belt. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”, huffed Feng indignantly. Manjak took a deep breath. “Sorry, Bao, but it would have been re-mature to mention this earlier to you. The other secretariat people would then already know my idea. But I can tell you, its not like I will be ordering you around if the proposal goes through.” “Trip, I have worked years to try making the WPF as effective as it is today. We don’t have the $6.7 billion that I requeste
d, sadly only $2.3 billion, but I manage. And I manage very well with what I have, I have worked hard to maintain schedules, to secure donors, to find available food to be distributed. What will happen when FAO is put in charge of those processes?” Manjak knew that Feng couldn’t possibly have read all the details given in his full proposal, detailed in the .pdf file that he sent to the Secretariat an hour ago. “Don’t worry, you will still have control over all those processes. And you should know that I will basically support almost any one of your initiatives. But having you in the FAO will boost our credentials as well. Besides, I will then be able to focus on research and development efforts instead of catering to Maurice’s slow-paced and honestly, rather useless projects. He is more focused on gathering media attention, celebrities, and Hollywood actors than in actually tackling the problems in the third world. We’re starting to look like show business. I have no problem with that, per se. Show business and the media is great when you’re need to attract more of the public’s attention, and when you are trying to gather funds. Those people do help us a lot with donations and funding. But Maurice has become distracted with this, way too much. His paycheck is also preposterous, but that’s a separate story.” Feng takes a moment to respond. “Maurice really has gone off on a little tangent. But that’s not my problem.” “Look, Bao. You are one of the best executive directors that the WFP has ever had. FAO has been going down while you have been going up. But what the world needs is FAO, in the long run. We develop the initiatives that will still be in place two decades from now, we make sure that overfishing doesn’t kill off our next tuna sandwich lunch and we make sure a huge swarm of locusts doesn’t go around eating crops intended for people. I have always admired your work with the WFP, and I don’t know where we would be without you. But WFP is a band-aid, and FAO is the healing cure. WFP would be much better as a massive branch of FAO than swinging off by itself. One agency to have complete record, control, and decision-making capabilities with regards to our most precious resources- our food supply.”
Manjak pauses. He wants, needs Bao to agree with him on this one if his proposal is to succeed. “Maybe you should read the full thing. You talk to no one but the Director-General, everything else is just as you do now. Basically.” Bao thinks about it for a second, shifting her feet. “I should look at it. But that would also mean that Maurice will be running the WFP.” “Maurice? He’s too busy trying to get more interviews on CNN. Besides, maybe in a year he’ll retire.” “Unlikely. A funny idea though, Trip. I don’t think so.” “We’ll see. Anyway, read my proposal. You’ll like it!” Bao smiles, paraphrasing him: “We’ll see”, before leaving the dark red Economic and Social Council Chamber. Manjak, confident that Bao Feng will follow his logic and be supportive of his plan by the end of the day, is the last person from the meeting to walk out the room. But he is likely the most content at that moment.
St. Louis, Missouri, USA
The ‘gateway to the west’ no longer is as large a transportation hub as it used to be during the late nineteenth century, but what the railroad once did for its economy is now done by many leading public corporations, including Boeing Defense Systems, Wachovia Securities, and the MalSanto Company. The sky is a clear blue with no clouds as the American Airlines flight with most of the senior USDA leadership aboard touches down at Lambert International Airport. The trip to MalSanto headquarters, located on 1800 north Lindbergh Blvd. approximately 15 kilometers (9miles) from downtown St. Louis, is a ten minute drive south from the airport. The quick car ride is mostly spent in silence, until Onassis receives a call from someone and starts talking quickly. His gruff voice tells McCarthy that no good news has come up, and whoever is on the other side of the line probably is the harbinger of simply more bad news. Onassis turns to McCarthy in the sedan, his face a stern mask of ice. “Los Angeles reports that most of the Los Angeles area has the affliction. They say that people report worms coming out of their front lawns, their gardens, all over their driveways. They say in Long Beach, East Los Angeles, even in downtown, there are worms coming up on the sidewalks. People are wondering what is going on.” Onassis pauses. “Hell, we don’t know what is really going on, and that’s scary.” McCarthy is taken aback by the USDA’s directors’ frank description of the situation in Los Angeles. I leave home for 24 hours, and look what happens. “Sir, how has the situation spread so fast? I was gathering samples around Bakersfield, and now most of Los Angeles has the same problem. Bakersfield is at least 100 miles from LA. Let's assume that over 10,000 people used Groundup SuperPower in the Los Angeles area within the last two days. That may be the reason why this conflagration has spread so far and so wide in such a short amount of time. But then, it should also have been reported in San Francisco, in Las Vegas, even in Idaho to be honest. Where was Groundup SuperPower the first to hit the shelves at the local home depot?” Onassis is thinking the same thoughts that are currently racing through McCarthy’s already overtaxed mind, but he has one addition resource- all the information of USDA at his fingertips. “McCarthy, you don’t need to go that far ahead. According to MalSanto’s data which they sent me personally today, the first batch to hit stores was released in Los Angeles. The rest of the shipments went to market two days ago around the rest of the country; or as you said Idaho. All those other shipments are being recalled right now. They will be sent back to MalSanto’s warehouses until we are finished with our investigation.” Onassis gets back on the phone, adding, “I’m going to have to talk to Washington on this one. It's not that I’m worried about farmers not getting their new herbicide, they still have all the others already out now. But what happens to the whole southern section of California. Where is that worm guy, I need him now?!”
McCarthy remembers the report sent to him by the worm ecology expert, Gonzalo Rodriguez. “Mr. Rodriguez? He is in LA I think. He sent you his report, sir, before sending it to me.” “I know that, McCarthy, but having his report and having him here to explain to MalSanto’s guys in person what their product is doing are two different things. You read his report again and if I ask you anything about it, you better know.” That gave McCarthy something to do, although not what he would have preferred. McCarthy pulls out Rodriguez’s report on the importance of worms in the soil and how LA might be affected by the worm die-out. Just then the car pulls into MalSanto’s multi-building world headquarters, leaving McCarthy with a set of papers in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Clumsily grabbing everything, he follows Onassis out of the car. The rest of the USDA team gets out of the first sedan that arrived moments before theirs did. MalSanto’s top brass, aware for several hours now that their latest product is facing immediate recall and realizing that media publicity from this affair could lead to a major loss for their company, are waiting outside the MalSanto World Headquarters building, a sore eye-point composed of three roughly cubical shapes made out of dark blackish glass. Surrounded by stale grassland and green summer forest, along with sprawling parking and highways, the complex itself gives off an aura of dichotomy between life and lifelessness.
The presence of the multitude of people in business formal suits dispenses any ideas of lifelessness in the environment. Onassis is the first to introduce himself to the MalSanto executive board, starting with company Chairman and CEO Patrick L. Walter. The two men, both having been acquaintances for over two decades, share a cordial greeting. McCarthy comes after a host of other USDA personnel, noticing Walter’s unusually strong handshake as he introduces himself. Next comes Mary LoSchiavo, a brunette of average height in a smart business suit. She introduces herself to McCarthy as the Commercial Vice President and GroundupDivision President. Hmm, that is important. If Grounduphas a problem she won’t like it. McCarthy makes a mental note to keep track of her throughout the inspection tour. Two other Executive Vice Presidents of the company are also present, although unlike Walter and LoSchiavo they are not purposefully taking center stage in the short greeting ceremony. After the two groups have been thoroughly introduced
and start to intermingle slowly, Walter speaks up. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it my pleasure to welcome you all to our headquarters here in St. Louis. While I wish I could have gotten to know each and every one of you under more favorable circumstances, I am still proud to present to you the wonders of our company here at MalSanto headquarters.” McCarthy wondered if the pomp was necessary; after all, most of the USDA was well aware of MalSanto’s activities. “If you’ll step this way, we can get right down to our processes and procedures for our latest Groundupproduct, aptly named SuperPower.”
In the long, gleaming corridors of the facility, Walter leads the USDA team through a series of parallel corridors filled with adjacent meeting rooms, IT service areas, Server storage areas, and more meeting rooms. Along the way he continues explaining the history of SuperPower’s development. “Last year, many of our customers were becoming eager for a new product. Our older version of Grounduphave been losing their efficiency when dealing with some of the latest weed varieties out there.” McCarthy had read the reports and was predicting Walter’s speech as the group was led into a long, only semi-lit underground corridor. “We are fairly certain that glyphosate, nor any non-active ingredient in Groundup SuperPower, is responsible for this catastrophe.” Onassis interrupts the defensive Walter with a punctuating growl. “Walter, please don’t give us that excuse right now. We want to see the schematics, the blueprints for the herbicide. Including each and every non-active ingredient. My staff members will review in conjunction with yours.” Still leading the group, Walter responds darkly. “Every single product we put out there in the market is federally approved by both the USDA and the EPA before a single farmer can buy it. SuperPower was already once carefully inspected and, you, all of you, claimed that it would be a much-needed upgrade to the PowerMax , BioForce, and Ready Rate brands that were being used before SuperPower. Yet now you claim that our new product is responsible for killing your worms!” “Not our worms, Patrick, everybody’s worms.” soothes Onassis to the clearly flustered and angry CEO. “Trust me, if no evidence is found that your inactive ingredients are responsible the product will be allowed back on the market at fast as possible.”
Patrick Walter considers the Secretary of Agriculture’s words for a moment before replying, “Very well. I guess this is a gesture of good faith then.”, as he steps back to the front. McCarthy, knowing that no one is buying any more SuperPower from the shelves as of the day’s morning, wonders privately if the contamination continues to spread around the Los Angeles metro area or if LaJoy and his team are experiencing elation with a break in the number of phone calls their office is receiving. Shaking out of his vague daydreaming thoughts, McCarthy focuses back on the here and now. The two dozen executives and government officials walk through the narrow, grey corridor that connects the two large building complexes of MalSanto headquarters. Passing from the black western complex and underneath the highway, McCarthy hears the faint humming of hundreds of cars speeding at sixty miles per hour over his head. Another five minutes of walking brings the group to a heavy set of doors leading to a brighter, seemingly more solid set of corridors. A large door on the right of this hallway marked “Authorized Personnel Only- GroundupDivision II” was where Walter stopped the group at. Mary LoSchiavo, until now trailing her boss, spoke openly for the first time. “This is our room devoted for the past three years exclusively to Groundup SuperPower research and development. The room you are about to see has all the elements of a Gene gun lab, a plant tissue culture lab, and a growth chamber. You will all have the privilege of being the first non-employees of the company to be shown this laboratory.” Taking a hold of the large chain of keys from around her neck, LoSchiavo picks an access smartcard from the chain and swipes at the door’s entry mechanism. A green light flashes over the door indicating that the door is unlocked. LoSchiavo opens the door and motions for everyone to step inside.
“Since the first days of Project SuperPower we have tested the herbicide’s new properties against all the varieties of weeds that farmers in the US, and the world, would face. We made sure that we are prepared to deal not only with common species, but with unusual and exotic varieties as well, such as chocolate vines and sacred lotus. More importantly, we tested multiple times one of Cleanup’s most important qualities: that it has no effect once in contact with soil. Since its inception decades ago, Grounduphas focused on inhibiting the production of the enzyme EPSP, which is vital for the plant to manufacture amino acids necessary for metabolic growth. Glyphosate also attacks the plants rhizomes and roots, leading to death and decomposition within a few days. Glyphosate will not attack non-target vegetation, nor will it move through the soil through the root system. It is designed to destroy the green, living parts of invasive species. In fact it will bind tightly to most soil particles before being degraded and decomposed.”
LoSchiavo knows that this is common knowledge to most MalSanto employees, but she enforces the point forcefully to the USDA officials who seem to think of the perfectly safe herbicide as a threat to their precious worms. For years it hasn’t harmed other animals, why all of a sudden would it kill a billion worms? Its not a virus or something!
McCarthy, on the other hand, takes every one of LoSchiavo’s words with a hint of salt. She is after all, a high level employee and would never say anything counterproductive to the company. McCarthy interjects LoSchiavo before she can continue. “Mrs. LoSchiavo, could metabolite components such as AMPA and POEA provoke reactions within earthworm digestive or immune systems? I understand that you make sure that ppm concentration of these metabolites are kept under the maximum safe level for humans, but you have never tested the ppm levels currently used in Groundupon insects or earthworms?” LoSchiavo turns around to face McCarthy, her eyes locked onto his for daring to ask such a question. “Mr. McCarthy, human safety is our primary concern. It would be a waste to be researching effects on insignificant organisms when we are already so much time and money into making sure that our products have no effect on people.” “But it would seem that the species in question isn’t nearly as ‘insignificant’ as you make it out to be. Earthworms are as critical to the environment as any species can be. Do you know what would happen to your product if it were to destroy all the worms on a farmer’s land? The land would be lacking in nutrients, non-aerated, and all the weeds that Groundupwould have ‘decomposed’ the previous year would be left rotting on the surface. Basically the land would be unusable, no crops would be able to grow properly, and maybe the weeds would take over. But then there would be no market for your products if there are no crops to be protected, right? Ma’am, no worms in the soil means no market share for Groundup SuperPower.” Everyone around is taken aback by McCarthy’s fierce response, the MalSanto executives reeling back in horror at his words. However, while LoSchiavo continues burning into McCarthy with a venomous glare, a slow, somber expression of realization comes across Walter’s face. He breaks the tension by asking the redundant question. “Are you saying, Dr. McCarthy, that by withdrawing our latest product you believe that we are saving our largest market from a catastrophe that our product allegedly causes?” McCarthy swallows. “Yes, sir, that is basically my point. It if doesn’t cause it, well, the precautions would justify itself by keeping the market, basically the farming industry, a safe distance away from a potential danger. If SuperPower is in fact the cause of the worm die-off, then that danger is real and preventing the farmers from acquiring it keeps your future markets intact. After all, I believe that you can easily continue to market PowerMax, Bioforce, and every other Ground upline product. Every other Groundup product has come out and none of them have the correlation to a massive die-out as SuperPower.”
“What you say is true, Dr. McCarthy.” Onassis comes to McCarthy’s defense, while simultaneously trying to comfort his old friend Patrick Walter. “Look, this could merely be a timing issue. After all, other possibilities that have been proposed range from wild new environmental conditions to an unidentified worm
epizootic. But these are more unlikely, and unfortunately the worms are being affected at exactly the same time and locations where Groundup SuperPower is being first marketed.” Walter, whose flushness of the face has started to visibly fade, calms after hearing those few key words from Onassis. “Very well then. Can you start work on this research immediately?” Onassis replies, “Dr. McCarthy will stay here along with a few of my other people to run tests. I’ve ordered samples brought here ASAP. I’ve also asked for the best environmental scientists, molecular biologists, and virologists to come down here and give their opinions, and see if they can come up with something.” Realizing that the conversation has shifted, LoSchiavo drops the ball and looks up to Walter for instructions. “We need to go over the legalities and recall procedures for SuperPower.” Reminds Onassis, speaking to Walter and the rest of the MalSanto executives. “I’ll leave McCarthy, Jones, and La Cruz here while we go back to your office and work on the recall. I want to make sure every single container is accounted for. McCarthy, Jones, La Cruz; you three stay here and start coming up with control experiments, tests, any ideas to determine the correlation between worms and SuperPower.”
While the top executives file out of the GroundupDivision II room, LoSchiavo stays with the three USDA researchers assigned by Onassis to stay put and devise solutions. Knowing that SuperPower was directly under her supervision, LoSchiavo feels compelled to stay and work with the USDA scientists to disprove the alleged link between the hodgepodge of crazy events that have recently unfolded and the project that has taken the last two years of her life. She looks over at McCarthy, Jones, and La Cruz. A tall blonde man, an even taller African American, and a shorter man who may have passed as a Hispanic in most states. Gathering her strength after the quick succession of arguments, LoSchiavo started. “Gentlemen, my apologies for any inconveniences in this little shake-up. I assure you that our CEO Mr. Patrick Walter is simply flustered by all these recent events, not to mention this assumed relationship between SuperPower and the worms disaster unfolding in Los Angeles. I’ve read the reports, and believe me, I find the reports of environmental changes and epizootics much more likely than it being a result of SuperPower. As you all know, herbicides are specifically designed to kill plants, not organisms.”
McCarthy interjects. “Ma’am, I’ve also read the reports and from what I can tell there is no new environmental phenomenon that could be causing the worms to die. I’ve been at the sites myself, and from what I’ve seen and tested with my team soil moisture is usual, soil temperature is normal to the 0.5 of a degree, precipitation is average, soil aeration is average. The chances, or should I say probability, of this die-out being caused by some environmental change is remote. Sunlight levels are average for lower California, precipitation this season is normal . . . which is to say almost nothing, barely 0.10 inches over the month. Every soil sample we tested was fine, and the water has no element in it that we haven’t detected before. Although the EPA should be doing their own tests to the water as well.” McCarthy looks at LoSchiavo, who is quickly running possibilities through her head. “What about a spill from a refinery, chemical plant? There are hundreds of chemical-products companies around Santa Monica. Have you investigated them?” La Cruz brings his points up. “Yes there are many corporations involved with chemical products in LA, but this started in Bakersfield. The first place, the first city that had access to Groundup SuperPower.” McCarthy adds, “Not only that, but if we were dealing with an oil spill we would know about already. Everything would be contaminated with the oil in a large radius around the source. We have found not a drop of unexpected oil or petroleum of any kind at any site that I have been at. And our office at LA reports the same.”
“What about an epizootic?”, presses LoSchiavo. “Have you even considered that? We’re so focused on avian and swine influenzas, we forgot that other animals can be affected as well. Have you even though of worm flu?” “Worm flu? The idea is preposterous, arthropod diseases don’t spread that fast!”, interjects Jones. “Actually, some do”, corrects McCarthy, “Fire ant disease has been known to reduce colony sizes by over sixty percent. And there is Colony Collapse Disorder in honey bees. We don’t even know the cause of that, even though the disease has been around for years. But valid theories out there claim that the cause is some unusual spore called Israel Acute Paralysis Virus. Are you suggesting that the worms are being killed by a virus or unidentified spore?”
“That’s precisely what I’m suggesting!”, replies LoSchiavo, “you need a team of virologists and biologists to examine those worms as much as a team of environmental scientists and chemists. Tell me you’re doing that before we go on.” McCarthy answers, “Ma’am, we are doing that. But it’ll be a while before that team is assembled. To be honest, I don’t know how they are proceeding in LA right now. Maybe they’ve already got the microbiology and virology guys there already.” “Let's hope so.", answers LoSchiavo, "Well, enough premature talking. Lets start our analysis of the herbicide by looking at the diagrams of the SuperPower compound”. . . .
Houston, Texas
In his laboratory at CBEID, a thousand tiny H5N2 virus samples stare back at V.K. Krishnan through the lens of his Titan Cubed microscope. The massive machine, twice as tall as a man and many times as heavy, hums softly as it increases the resolution of his image by hundreds of thousands of times. The tiny viruses, tube-like in shape, swirl in the gel before his eyes and on the monitor attached to the microscope. He watches the viruses as a swarm of newly developed antibodies enters from a precisely-calculated injection. The antibodies begin to attach themselves to the H5N2 tubules as -Ring!! The laboratory phone jolts Krishnan out of his concentration-induced visual stupor. Darn that phone! Interrupting me in the middle of this critical test! Knowing that the computer is monitoring and recording the entire dance of the microbes happening under the 80-300 Cubed, Krishnan swivels his chair and rolls himself across the room to the phone.
“Dr. Krishnan speaking. Who is this?” “Good Morning, Dr. Krishnan. This is Peter LaJoy from the US Department of Agriculture. We have a situation in California that requires your attention. We were wondering if you could be so kind as render your assistance?” “What kind of a situation? You are probably not aware of this Mr. LaJoy, but I’m running a rather important experiment right now on an avian flu variant and it would be rather unseemly if I simply got up and left.” “Dr. Krishnan, perhaps you should take a look at the fax that I sent your office. Then you can make your mind up. My number is included in the fax.” With that, LaJoy hung up the phone. Great, this guy is taking my time off an important experiment. Government type, though, so whatever he wants is probably not that trivial. Krishnan thinks to himself as he exits the lab and heads into the adjoining room looking over at his fax machine. Seeing one of his assistant professors in the room, Krishnan calls out to him, “Hey Wang! I’ve got something here and the H5N2 antibody test running in there! Make sure it's all recorded and stored!” Seeing Wang hurry into the lab, Krishnan turns back to the fax. It is a copy of a lengthy report on worms, herbicides, and environment. What the hell? Noticing the date to be from yesterday, Krishnan prints the document and spends twenty minutes reading it. Worms dying all over Los Angeles? Possible connection to MalSanto SuperPower herbicide; New markets for the new herbicide which was just introduced affected, other offered explanations include a new epizootic and new unseen soil conditions. . . wow, this is strange.
After reading the report a second time, Krishnan dials the phone number given at the end of the fax. “Dr. Krishnan here. May I speak to Mr. Peter LaJoy?” “This is LaJoy. I take it you read our little article. Fascinating, isn’t it?” “Truly. What do you need me for?” “You’re one of the world’s most renowned virologists, Doctor. I need you here to tell me if we are dealing with a virus. Right now MalSanto is the only one who really wants to fly with that story, everyone else involved here including the EPA, USDA, FDA, and so on think that this is a negative response on the w
orms’ part to some ingredient of their new herbicide. Whether it is or is not an epizootic I need to know now, and I need you here to tell me.” “That shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I will need to get to California first. . .” “That’s taken care of. I’ve already arranged for your plane tickets. I also need to know ASAP if, assuming it is a virus, if it can be transmitted to humans.” “Yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” “See you soon.” With a click the phone hangs up and Krishnan is left wondering how his day had changed so quickly.
“Wang, do everything as stated in the test procedure and record it all! I’ll be out for a day or two.”, he calls out to Wang. Just because he is heading to California in two hours doesn’t mean that the H5N2 experiments need to be stopped. Taking off his lab coat, Krishnan hangs it up on the rack and leaves the CBEID building., walking out onto UTMB’s sprawled green and concrete campus. Getting into his four-year old Mazda Six Krishnan turns on the engine , pulls out of the parking and heads for Houston International.
Port of Long Beach, Los Angeles
As the second-busiest port in the United States, the Port of Long Beach receives a huge amount of traffic in and out of its harbor every day. With over 80 ship berths, the port handles over $100 billion in exports and imports annually and provides jobs for over 300,000 people in the state of California. A massive quantity of containers is processed at the port every day, primarily from Taiwan, China, South Korea, and Japan. Long Beach serves as a major seaport gateway for U.S.- Asia trade, and as such thousands of items such as cars, electronics, furniture, toys, and home appliances are shipped in every day. U.S. exports flowing through Long Beach to Asian destinations include, amongst other things, a significant quantity of lactose, horticultural, and seafood products.
During the daytime the port is a bustle of hundreds of dockworkers, ship crews, cranes, trains, and trucks rushing to designated positions in order to unload their cargo and pick up new cargo. The docks are full of a multi-colored array of boxes stored in neat rows throughout the vast concrete decks adjacent to the docked ships. Huge cranes, both onboard the ships and on shore, move the crates to and from the cargo holds and decks onto awaiting trucks.
During the nighttime the buzz of activity quiets down but does not cease entirely. The third shift is as active as the first and second despite having less dockworkers and staff on hand than the first two. Miguel Sanchez is one of the supervisors during third shift at the Port. Waking up at 8:30pm every day he usually arrives at work at 9:45pm to begin work at ten. It is a grueling shift where workers must rely on light from flashlights, lights from hardhats, overhead lights, and other artificial light sources. During 2-4am most people feel groggy, extremely tired, and ready to fall asleep, despite it only being 4-5 hours into the workday. Scientists have referred to this period of the 24-hour cycle as the “zombie hour”. Determined not to let this deter him, Sanchez makes sure that he has his usual two cups of coffee around 1am while on the job. He duties include making sure that all the shipping crates carrying are safely packaged and secure for transport, and make sure that those under his supervision do their work properly.
Many of the third shift dock crews drink coke, Red Bull, and other caffeinated drinks to keep them on edge during this part of the night. Looking over a crate labeled “McGreenery”, Sanchez identifies the item as a crate full of olives bound for Shanghai, China. Ordering his workers to get the case onto the container ship, he fails to notice the slight crack at the bottom of the wooden crate. Tiredly, he watches a forklift pick up the crate and haul it to a crane operated by a worker before focusing on the next crate. The crane picks up the crate and loads it onto the waiting cargo ship, illuminated only by a small quantity of work lights. Neither Sanchez nor anyone else looks the crate again as it is put into the cargo deck and subsequently covered by a hundred more identical crates. If Sanchez were to look closer at the small opening however, he would have seen the teeming mass of earthworms inside the crate, ready for their journey across the world’s largest ocean to the world’s largest continent. . . .