Saladan stirred, uncrossing his leg and setting his foot on the floor. “That’s why I insisted on a widespread general-populace test to justify the large price tag they were asking.”
Trisk smiled, but Kal could see her long-held frustration. “I designed the tomato to be equally at home in a cultivated field or a backyard, as diversity is key to a successful organism, and people seem to love growing the novelty. The hairs wash off easily, and oddly enough, it’s those same hairs that help give the fruit the sweet tang in sauces and ketchup.”
From the shadows, Daniel beamed, giving her a thumbs-up.
Great, Kal thought, stifling his annoyance. The man hadn’t given up. “What Dr. Cambri did was amazing, Heather,” he said. “The hairs originate from DNA taken from the international GTB, or genetic tissue bank, modified and inserted into the tomato’s genome.”
Heather’s brow furrowed. “There’s human DNA in my ketchup? Isn’t that cannibalism?”
Rick gave Kal a look to shut his mouth. “Not at all, Heather,” he said smoothly, his dark voice mesmerizing. “The human genome is one of the best studied, and we’ve found there’s a lot of repeating blueprints for structures that appear throughout the biosphere, meaning we share a lot of DNA with other organisms from fruit flies to apples. To be honest, I’d get more human DNA in my body by nibbling on your ear than eating a bushel of Angel tomatoes.”
“I see. Thank you for clearing that up,” Heather said, then visibly shook herself of the obvious pull to him. “But I’m still questioning the prudence of having the last year of testing take place not only aboveground, but over entire continents.”
“The final testing year was to prove the tomato’s commercial viability,” Saladan said sourly. “Not for safety. I wouldn’t risk my workers with an untested product.”
Chuckling, Rick leaned forward. “You’re talking of the Cuban biocrisis, yes, Heather?”
She inclined her head, somehow looking both mischievous and no-nonsense. It was a fabulous expression, and Kal resolved to cultivate it. “You said it. Not me.” The woman gave him an impish smile. “But since you did, yes. We all remember the lines at the airports, the travel bans, and those awful yellow body bags that came back to our shores to be burned. All because of a badly developed genetic product.”
“That simply can’t happen anymore,” Rick soothed, and even Kal felt the force of his living-vampire persuasion telling Heather not to worry her pretty little head about it. “It’s more than the underground testing grounds and rigorous quarantine procedures that take place at every genetic facility. We’re actually working on a tactical virus at Global Genetics right now that has received military approval just this week. The Plank tactical virus, or PTV, has no host, no carrier, and will therefore die out after twenty-four hours to leave those afflicted to recover completely. So you can see why we’re not concerned about a tomato designed to survive a severe drought.”
“A tactical virus that doesn’t kill people?” Heather asked, her eyebrows high. “How is that helpful from a military standpoint?”
Kal stifled a wince, sure that neither the government nor the enclave would thank them for talking about Daniel’s virus, but Rick nodded even as Saladan stared at him in disbelief.
“Imagine three-quarters of Sacramento suddenly calling in sick,” Rick said, leaning forward to give his words more impact. “Everything stops. The chaos will allow our troops to safely enter and take control of any situation, whether it be as small as a building or large as a city.” He leaned back, smiling again. “And in twenty-four hours, everyone recovers.”
Heather frowned, and in the shadowed area off the stage, Kal heard a whispered argument. “You have an antidote for our own men, yes?” she asked, ignoring the spinning teleprompter.
Rick’s smile widened. “No, but U.S. troops won’t enter the area until the PTV hits the top of its infection curve and is in decline. They’ll never be fully exposed, and if they are, the worst that will happen is fever and perhaps a rash.”
Kal thought it interesting that he didn’t mention the racking cough that could tear lung tissue, the possible dehydration from vomiting, or that the rash sometimes left scars, but that only occurred with overdoses. Unlikely in controlled situations.
Suddenly Kal realized the current conversation could provide an opportunity to drive a wedge between Trisk and Daniel. “Heather,” Kal interrupted, “you might be interested to know that Dr. Cambri actually worked on the Plank tactical virus as well.”
“Is that so?” Heather looked down the long row of men to her, and Saladan sighed heavily, clearly not appreciating the topic shift away from his product.
Trisk’s smile became stilted; she clearly didn’t want to steal Daniel’s thunder. “Yes, but only in a small capacity. It’s Dr. Plank’s work. He’s here today, actually. Can we bring him up?”