Read Extinction Level Event Online
Authors: Jose Pino Johansson
Tags: #california, #ecology, #epa, #disaster, #outbreak
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 requested, 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.