Her anatomy skills were limited. She hadn’t known if she would be able to see what she hoped she would find. But to her astonishment, after making just a couple more cuts into the lamb’s stomach and guts, the evidence was there. Even to her eye it was clearly and gruesomely obvious.
Blackened growths bulged from the flesh, feeding off the lamb’s otherwise healthy viscera. Their roots were deeply embedded in its intestines, its stomach, its bowel. The creature had died from an aggressive strain of cancer.
Glancing down at the now-stained sack, Jade saw a logo she recognised. Three leaves forming a large green-coloured crest.
Below it, the legend: Global Seeds.
David shoved the barn doors closed and wedged the metal piping back into place, leaving the flies to their spoils. Then they walked back into the farmhouse via the front door to avoid having to go past the horror in the kitchen and Jade went to the bathroom. A typical second bathroom in an old farmhouse, with a stained toilet and an ancient, dried-out looking bar of soap in a crusty dish, and a plumbing system that choked and gurgled for a couple of minutes before any water was forthcoming.
When the tap finally ran hot she lathered her hands up. She soaped and scrubbed and soaped and scrubbed as if she couldn’t rid herself of the contamination she had touched; as if the lamb’s diseased flesh was ingrained in her being.
She washed her arms as well, and her face too, for good measure. There was no hand towel in the bathroom and the toilet roll on the holder had nearly run out, so she reached out to remove the spare roll from an old-fashioned pink-and-blue crocheted cover with a pompom on top that stood on top of the cistern.
When she picked it up it felt heavier than it should have done.
She pulled off the crocheted cover, her heart suddenly racing.
Wedged into the middle of the roll was a small black device, shaped rather like a compact cellphone.
A digital Dictaphone.
This was what must have been in the package that Zelda had told her friend Harris to post so urgently.
‘David?’ she called, but there was no answer.
She weighed the instrument in her hand, suddenly doubtful.
If this was what Meintjies’s tormentor had come looking for, why was there no evidence of a search? And why, having found nothing, had he not torched the place?
In any case, why would Meintjies have hidden the device inside his home when he had the whole of the Karoo in which to bury it without trace?
Obviously, this was not meant to be a permanent or effective hiding place. It was a temporary concealment point, nothing more. If this was what Meintjies’s torturer had been looking for, Jade was certain that he would have found it.
But he hadn’t been. Or it wasn’t.
What, then, had Meintjies been tortured for?
She slid the device into her jeans pocket and left the room.
Walking back to the hallway she heard the door to the main bathroom slam. David had been doing the same as her. Scrubbing himself clean again – or trying to – after being exposed to the rot and the disease.
‘The local police are on their way,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have to get the investigation team from Johannesburg to fly down here, but in the meantime the scene has to be protected. They said they’d be here as soon as possible, but that could take a while. Do you want to wait in the car?’
‘Yes. And while we wait …’
But he handed her the key. ‘I’m going to take another walk around in the meantime,’ he said. ‘Make sure there are no other surprises waiting. I’ll join you as soon as the police have arrived and I’ve briefed them.’ He squeezed her shoulder before turning away and striding back through the house.
Jade turned the car’s engine on and the air conditioning up high when she climbed in. Once the interior was a comfortable temperature, she turned it down to a whisper so that its noise would not interfere with the sound from the recording machine.
Offering a silent prayer that there would be usable information on the device, Jade pressed the ‘Play’ button.
43
A swishing, hissing background noise filled the car.
And then, surprisingly loud, Jade heard a woman’s voice. Clear, confident, well spoken.
‘25th May, ten a.m. Interview with Danie Smit, General Manager, Global Seeds.’
Jade stabbed the ‘Pause’ button and picked her jaw up from where it had dropped to the region of her chest.
Danie Smit. The man whose name had been written down in Zelda’s notebook, the one who’d been found dead in his car in Fourways Mall.
She had assumed that Danie Smit had been the person Harris had told her about, the mystery man who had been working with Zelda on the story. But he hadn’t been.
He had been her source at Global Seeds.
Jade resumed play, listening intently.
Some more shuffling noises. The sound of a chair moving and a man’s throat being cleared. Perhaps they were in a restaurant. Although, given the confidentiality of what Jade guessed they were going to be discussing, perhaps it was somewhere more private. A hotel room, or even in the cluttered living room in Zelda’s Randburg home.
The speaker – Zelda, Jade assumed – continued.
‘Danie, thanks for making the time to talk to me again.’
Again. So Smit was probably her regular source.
‘No problem.’
The man’s voice was softer, but decidedly wary. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely happy about having agreed to the meeting. Jade wondered how Zelda had persuaded him to disclose information on a steady basis. She felt ashamed of herself for immediately supposing that Zelda had been sleeping with Smit.
‘I know you have a tight schedule, and I’m going to have to ask you to go over some background information for the record, so let’s get started. Can you tell me about your company’s relationship with Williams Management,’ Zelda said.
‘Global Seeds was approached a couple of years ago by Sonet Meintjies from Williams Management. She explained that the charity was starting up a number of farming initiatives to help previously disadvantaged communities become self-sustainable. She wanted to know if we would be prepared to donate maize seeds to this project.’
‘What was your response?’
‘At first we declined. To subsidise the number of farms she had in mind with the amount of seed she requested wasn’t going to be remotely cost-effective. However, as you know, she is a persistent woman and during our fourth meeting, we came up with a possible solution.’
‘What did that involve?’
‘Our committee put forward the proposal of using these farms as testing grounds for various new hybrid varieties of maize. This would allow us to monitor how well the seed coped in varied climatic areas, often under sub-optimal growing conditions, and sometimes without the use of the recommended herbicides and pesticides. We agreed that doing this would be a useful field test, thereby justifying the expense. I was in charge of this project and I visited the farms two or three times a season to assess, photograph, and report back.’
‘Now, Mr Smit, could you please explain what Global 10-422AM is.’
A pause, presumably while Smit collected his thoughts. Then he spoke again; his tone measured and precise.
‘Global 10-422AM is a hybrid variety of corn, or maize as we more commonly refer to it in this country. It was first developed by Global Seeds at their research headquarters in Nebraska, USA, during the 2009–2010 season. The number “10” is a reference to the development date, the “A” indicates it is for human consumption and not for industrial use. “M” indicates it is one of the speciality hybrids developed during this season.’
‘What’s special about this particular hybrid?’
‘Like the others, it was developed with the intention of producing a very fast-growing variety, uniform in size, and with an inbred resistance to pests as well as to the effects of the most commonly used pesticides and herbicides marketed by Global Seeds. H
owever, the “M” in its code name referred to a brand new sub-series of hybrids – the medical series. This hybrid was a pioneer. It represented groundbreaking research done by the company in this field.’
Jade glanced over at the house and saw David in the distance, walking back from the greenhouses towards the kitchen door.
‘Why was the decision taken to plant Global 10-422AM on the Theunisvlei farm?’
‘Mainly due to costs. It was a very expensive hybrid to produce and, had it reached market, it would still have been expensive, largely due to its multiple benefits. The Siyabonga community was the smallest of the farms run by Williams Management, and it was in its first year of operation. Because of the small scale of the planting area we felt it would be financially justifiable to donate half a ton of seed from the new hybrid in order to run field tests on it.’
‘Had any of this seed been through a field test or tested on animals before?’
‘No. It had been grown, of course, in our laboratory greenhouses, but this particular variety had not been tested comprehensively on animals, although its predecessors had.’ His voice sounded flat and toneless, as if he didn’t want to talk about this, even though he had come to the interview prepared.
‘Could you tell me more about the medical benefits this seed was going to offer consumers, Mr Smit?’
Another clink. Jade imagined Zelda putting down a glass of water, perhaps jotting the occasional note on her pad while keeping a watchful eye on the Dictaphone’s red flashing light.
Smit’s tone suddenly changed, and for the first time she could pick up the high top-notes of stress and frustration. ‘Christ, babes, is this all actually necessary?’
Jade didn’t need to think long about what the word ‘babes’ might mean. Either a current or a past relationship, for sure. Her first guess had been right.
‘What’s the problem, Danie?’ Zelda sounded surprised.
‘It’s just that … never mind. Don’t worry.’
‘Well, are you ready to carry on?’
‘Ja … let’s carry on.’ A heavy sigh. ‘The research – you wanted to know about that, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was done after various investigations into the unusual longevity of a certain rodent, the naked mole rat.’
‘Why the naked mole rat?’
‘This animal not only lives ten times longer than a typical mouse, but it has an exceptionally high resistance to cancer. Scientists have, from previous research, identified that this is due to the mole rat’s having eight cancer-resistant genes, including the protein P16, which is one of the major human tumour suppressor proteins.’
‘So you used this gene in the creation of the hybrid? An animal gene? How is that possible?’
‘You know how it’s possible. I’ve told you before.’
‘Please could you explain again – for the record,’ Zelda responded. Jade could hear a hint of dryness in her voice.
‘Well, DNA itself, which is found inside every cell, is an extremely complex molecule. It contains literally billions of atoms which are coiled into the double helix formation that you are probably familiar with. About one to three per cent of this molecule consists of genes.’
‘Carry on.’
‘Now, DNA can and does mutate. Some of these mutations will be passed on to the next generation. Farmers and breeders have, for hundreds of years, bred plants with other plants and animals with other animals in the hope of combining, or amplifying, their more desirable traits. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.’
‘And this is what genetic engineering does?’
‘No. Genetic engineering is as different from this as … as car travel is from time travel. Instead of helping nature’s processes along, biologists simply identify the gene they need from the DNA of one species, cut it out, and insert it directly into the DNA of another. This means that plants can, and do, have genes from animals, bacteria and even viruses spliced into them, creating new organisms that would never have come about through natural means.’
There was a short silence. Jade wondered whether Zelda had been listening as intently as she was now.
‘It sounds like a very scientific and exact process,’ Zelda observed.
‘It is and it isn’t. In fact, the actual process is very much a hit-and-miss affair. For example, one of the most commonly used and cheapest methods of gene insertion is to simply launch them into the host DNA by blasting a 22-calibre gene gun at a dish containing the cells. Scientists do this hoping that at least some of the genes will end up in the right place in at least some of the DNA.’
‘Is that so?’ Zelda’s tone was filled with irony and Jade had no doubt that this was not new information to her, but that she was enjoying having Danie state it for the record.
‘To find out which cells got the new DNA, they attach antibiotic-resistant markers to the genes. Once they’ve fired the gene gun they then douse the host cells in antibiotics. Those cells that die didn’t get the new DNA. The few in every thousand that survive, did get it.’
‘You’re right. That doesn’t sound very scientific. Or very safe.’
‘There are risks attached to every procedure. The major risk, though, is that gene transfer by this method – in fact by any method – does not always produce reliable results.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Very often, a phenomenon called gene silencing occurs. This is when the foreign gene or else existing genes in its vicinity get shut off during the transfer process and become disabled. They no longer work, in other words, they cannot produce their protein.’
‘Could you expand on that, please, and explain more about how Global 10-422AM was produced?’
‘To obtain accelerated, vigorous growth in the plant, our technicians experimented with splicing certain special genes into the hybrid. Some of these genes were obtained from fast-growing cells. Others, from the naked mole rat, produced the P16 protein. In addition, we used a promoter which was obtained from the cauliflower mosaic virus. This promoter acted as an engine, allowing the newly implanted genes to express themselves.’
‘Is it common practice to insert virus genes into plant seeds?’
‘Using viral DNA promoters is commonly done, yes.’
‘And do you have any further details on those fast-growing cells your company used?’
‘Not at this stage, no,’ Smit snapped.
‘Because the only fast-growing cells I can think of that could logically have produced those results would be cancer cells. It sounds to me like something a group of scientists who believed they were the next best thing to God might do. Use the DNA from cancer cells to promote faster growth, while assuming, in their hubris, that the presence of the P16 protein would actually cause the plant to suppress cancer in its users.’
‘This was a highly experimental project,’ Smit muttered.
Jade looked through the passenger window to where a plume of dust was visible on the horizon, signalling the approach of a faraway vehicle.
Hopefully this was just a passing resident, or else perhaps the local police arriving. Even so, Jade kept watching the dust cloud, its progress punctuated by the softly spoken words on the recorder.
‘So nobody took it a step further and did any other testing, even though it was grown for human consumption.’ Again, the irony in Zelda’s tone was impossible to miss. She was starting to like this woman more and more. ‘According to my research, the standard safety test for a genetically modified plant includes seven main parts. Part three is assessing the risk of gene transfer occurring from the food to micro-organisms in the human gut. In retrospect, that would have been useful.’
‘Full testing had been done on mice with earlier prototypes and was on the agenda for Global 10-422AM.’
‘In the meantime, though, the crop was planted by the Siyabonga community.’
‘It was.’ Smit’s voice sounded dry, as if he was not used to talking for protracted periods. He coughed twice and Jad
e heard the sound of swallowing as he drank some water.
‘You monitored the crop?’
‘As I said, I visited the site three times. Once during planting and once midway through the growing process, and finally just before harvest. This was all in the space of a few months. The crop thrived and grew phenomenally fast, despite a lack of water. It was a dry summer and the irrigation system that was piped in from the river was faulty and worked erratically.’
‘What happened after harvest?’
‘Babes, can we please stop the interview here?’ Now Smit’s voice sounded low and urgent.
‘No. Of course not. I need the full story, Danie.’
‘It’s just that … Look, this whole situation is giving me a really bad feeling. Not just what happened, but the way everyone’s been behaving since then. Trust me, I’ve never been shit-scared passing information on to you before, but I am now. If they find out …’
‘How could they find out?’ Now Zelda sounded troubled too. ‘Did you make sure you weren’t followed here?’
Danie gave a short laugh. ‘I didn’t have a chance. I was on the damn cellphone to my boss just about the whole way over here.’
‘Oh.’ Zelda paused. ‘Shit,’ she said.
‘Exactly.’
‘Danie, you need to get out of there. I’ve told you before.’
‘I know. But resigning now would be the worst thing I could do.’
‘Mmm. Take a holiday, maybe, and don’t come back? Sick leave?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘While you’re thinking, could you tell me what happened next?’
Jade jumped as David’s voice cut urgently across the hiss of the recorder.
‘Jade, could you come over here a minute please?’ he called. Glancing up, she saw him standing by the front door.
She pressed the ‘Stop’ button, got out of the car and walked over to the farmhouse.
44
The temperature must have climbed by five degrees during the short time Jade had been in the car. The sun was blazing directly onto the front of the house and in through the front doorway. Dust motes danced in the glare.
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