The Rice Thieves

by William Claypool

  Buddy looked intently at Rorke. “I bet you Shelly’s reaction would put a twinkle in your pretty eyes. It’s a helluva joke, you have to admit.”

  Rorke said nothing.

  Buddy continued, “As we all know, I made a small mistake, a little boo-boo, a little admin paperwork glitch. I cut a few regulatory corners, didn’t file enough forms, and I brought my rice into Hawaii before it was cleared. We loaded up our farm with it and got busted by the HDOA and the USDA. It cost me a lot of money in lawyers, although it could have been worse.” He looked back at Rorke. “At least I got to meet you.”

  “Was it was worth it?” asked Rorke.

  “Every nickel, baby,” said Buddy.

  He turned to Franco, “Does that answer your question, Mike?”

  “Most of it,” said Franco. “What else were you growing on your farm?”

  “Nothing much,” said Buddy. “Having the farm was really just a good excuse to write off my trips to Hawaii. Wife number three didn’t care much for Houston, although she loved it out here. We spent a lot of time in Maui.

  “My philosophy is that making money is the Christian thing to do. Make the money, give a lot of cash away to people who don’t know how to make it, put a lot of folks to work, and have fun with the rest. I’m having fun. Maui was fun. Man, Maui was lots of fun.”

  Buddy continued. “Now, as I understand it, y’all are going to California to meet with a couple of my plant scientists on the way back to Washington.”

  “Yes,” answered Rorke. “We’ll give them a full update on your rice plants and our progress with understanding their biology.”

  “That’s good. They like to know all this stuff. Hell, the rice grows just fine. That’s all I care about.” Buddy turned to Franco. “Do you understand all this science stuff, Mike?”

  Franco said, “I’m new to rice, but, yes, I think I understand most of it.”

  “Well, good for you. I guess it’s also good for you to have the professor here to guide you through the tricky parts.”

  “That’s my purpose here,” said Sloan.

  “That almost sounds philosophical,” said Buddy, and he took another sip from his drink. “Let’s leave the plants for now. Do you have family, Mike?”

  “No, I’m single. Never married,” said Franco.

  “That’s a much more economical approach to the institution of marriage than I have pursued in my oft-wayward life,“ said Buddy, gravely. “Still, I don’t think I could have done it any other way. Just my nature.”

  “Are you still married?” asked Franco.

  “No, I’m between wives,” said Buddy. “I’m currently looking for number four.” He looked to Rorke. “Sam, you might want to think about pursuing that assignment. We could hold the auditions any time you want.”

  “I’ll give it serious thought,” said Rorke.

  “Now, honey, I’m serious about this. The pre-nup is the worst part. All the rest is upside, I promise you. You know, even with the damned pre-nup, the other gals made out just fine. I left number three that beach house in Maui and believe me, she’s fixed for life. Now, you know number three and I were getting along great until she went a little bit nuts after reading too many lady magazines. She went vegan on me. She also became a teetotaler and an exercise freak. I think she went a little Buddhist, too. Eventually, she said I needed to change many of my behaviors, if you can believe that. It went downhill from there.” Buddy took another drink before adding, “I know that wouldn’t happen with you.”

  Rorke smiled and then quietly agreed, “I’m sure you’re right, Buddy.”

  Buddy turned away from Rorke and lowered his voice. “Mike and Professor, you might appreciate this. That Maui beach house is in a very private setting; its beach is totally secluded. Number three liked to come out and reduce her tan lines, if you follow me. Now, I’ll never see that wonderful sight again. It makes me happy just to know she’s out in the world with an even tan. I think it’s a generous gift I’ve been able to give to some lucky bastard, although I know not who.”

  Buddy took another long drink and drained his glass. He motioned for Paku to hand him a waiting refill. “Did I offend you, Sam?” he asked.

  “No, Buddy. I’m okay.”

  “Good. By the way, we got to find you a different name if you’re coming on the payroll as number four. You just can’t look like you do and be a ‘Sam.’ That’s a shop foreman’s name. That don’t work when you look the way you do in a dress like that.”

  Buddy took another drink before continuing. “And I tell you, ‘Samantha,’ doesn’t cut it either. That just strikes me as an uptight Brit. Even with that half-English accent, you’re no Samantha, either.”

  “Do you have any ideas for another name?” she asked.

  “No,” Buddy said. “We should work on that. We’ll have to give it lots of time to do it right.”

  He looked at the sunset and said, “Hey, let’s go down and eat. I think Paku’s got us set up on the terrace.” Buddy rose, offered a hand to Rorke, and led the way to the down escalator.

  The table on the terrace was set for four. Wine was on the table, candles were lit, and a soft jazz piece was playing in the background. Looking through the terrace into the next room, Franco noticed a large portrait of Winston Churchill surrounded on the wall by several smaller oil paintings. “Buddy, do you like Sir Winston?” he asked, after they sat down.

  Buddy suddenly became even more animated. “You bet. He’s a distant cousin. Lady Randolph, his mom, was American and she was a Jerome before she was a pretend Brit. In the best Jerome tradition, Sir Winston was a love child and he came up with the finest combination of brains and brass the world has ever seen. In my opinion, he saved the whole damned western civilization and made sure that Roosevelt found the balls to help him do it. He was my cousin, Sir Winston, a distant cousin, but still family. As a matter of fact, my middle name is Winston.”

  Paku walked around the table serving, as Buddy told the group, “Help yourself to more wine.”

  Buddy started to eat and the others followed.

  “Another thing,” Buddy said between bites. “See those other six paintings? Sir Winston did those. He painted about 500 oils and I own 22 of them. I have most of them in Houston, although I keep five in my office in New York. I’m looking to max out at 100 and I have my art scouts looking. I’ve been averaging only three new ones a year. I’m going to have to up the pace a little if I want to hit my goal while I still have enough friends to brag about it.”

  Buddy took a sip of wine and turned back to Franco. “Do you like art, Mike?” asked Buddy.

  “No, not very much,” said Franco.

  “That’s an honest answer,” said Buddy. “Maybe the wrong answer, but still an honest one.”

  Buddy focused his attention on his meal for a few bites before asking, “Professor, how are my plants doing?”

  He caught Sloan chewing and had to wait a moment before he swallowed and answered.

  “Everything is looking fine so far. We’ve put them in with other flora and have seen no problems. We had to expose them to local insects, and they’re okay too.”

  “How much longer you going to keep them?”

  “Oh,” said Sloan, “it will still be a few months.”

  “I see,” said Buddy. “I have one other thing to say, and this will be the end of the business talk tonight. After that I can drink a little more wine and enjoy a bottle of 50-year-old Macallan I’ve been waiting to crack.”

  Buddy hesitated, then said, “Professor, you know I’ve turned all of my documents over to the USDA voluntarily. Now, while I’ve enjoyed our talks over the last few months, y’all are going to have to start moving a little faster on this project. It’s been a while, and I’m seeing Shelly again at Augusta in about a week.

  Buddy turned and looked directly at Rorke. “Sam, you mi
ght be the prettiest gal west of Houston. I admit that because you are just so delightful to be around, I might have been a little too generous, giving over all our materials for you government types to hold. However, understand this: if Shelly Gardner tells me he’s going to make a product out of this protein, and I don’t have my rice back, there’ll be hell to pay. I mean it. Do we all understand that? This is business.”

  The three visitors nodded.

  “Good,” said Buddy. He shouted to the kitchen. “Paku, come on fella, we need another bottle of wine here and bring that scotch I’ve been saving.” He looked at his guests. “Who needs a drink?”

  CHAPTER 10

  One Month Earlier

  Zhang Wei was excited as he walked off the plane in Beijing after his flight from Hunan. Today would be one of the highlight days of his government career. He would remember this as the day he finally achieved his promotion.

  He exited the terminal and looked to the street for his government car, hoping he would not have to stand long in the acrid, hazy air. Zhang was delighted when the car pulled up to the curb within a minute of his arrival, and further pleased the car was one of the newer Dongfeng models. Since the government banned foreign cars for state officials, the days of Mercedes-Benz vehicles were gone, but the newer Dongfengs were comfortable enough. He wondered if the Mercedes cars would ever be approved again. He had always dreamed that when he began government service, he might one day be chauffeured in them.

  Zhang was not a fan of the capital city. When the Beijing smog hit his eyes, they started to water and itch. He knew he would start coughing if he had to spend much time on the street. However, on this trip he was lucky to be staying inside and not have to deal with the air pollution. He promised himself that if he were ever to become Minister, he would work hard to move the Ministry to Shanghai or perhaps even to Hong Kong.

  On a good day, the Beijing Capital International Airport was only about forty minutes to the Ministry offices. The Airport Expressway led directly to the city, and the Ministry building was just off the expressway. Today it was an hour’s trip, and all things considered, the trip thus far was one of his better ones.

  His car pulled up to the curb in front of The Ministry of Agriculture. It was a stately grey building with a long apron of steps rising from the sidewalk to the three giant archways of the entrance vestibule. Inside, he checked in at the security desk in the great hall before making his way to the elevators to the Minister’s suite of offices on the top floor.

  Outside the suite, he showed his identification to another security guard and was admitted to the well-appointed reception area. Zhang very much liked this office arrangement and believed that when he became Minister, if he had to stay in Beijing, he would not change the suite at all.

  He sat for only a few minutes when a young woman approached him and asked him to follow her to the large conference room down the hall. Two old men were seated at the table and a middle-aged man was helping himself to tea.

  Zhang Wei bowed to the group. “Good morning,” he said. “I am Zhang Wei, Assistant Minister of Agriculture from Hunan Province.” He went from man to man to present his business card.

  “Good morning,” said the first old man. “I am Professor Fu.”

  The other old man, sitting across from him added, “And I am Professor Han.”

  “I am honored to meet you,” said Zhang, knowing well that both professors were senior and distinguished members of the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Sciences.

  “I am Mr. Ma,” the third man said. “I am the Director of the Plant Protection and Quarantine Division in the Department of Crop Production.”

  Zhang knew of this man and gave him a reserved bow. Zhang outranked him by several rungs up the bureaucratic ladder, and was appropriately unimpressed. “It is very good to meet you, Mr. Ma,” he said without conviction.

  When all four men were seated at the table, Zhang and Ma listened to the two professors discuss a recent scientific meeting that both had attended, then the two professors quickly ran out of small talk. It seemed to Zhang that the two scientists did not enjoy one another’s company. The four men were uncomfortably quiet until the Minister and a younger man entered. Zhang and Ma stood, although neither of the two old men left their chairs.

  “Please be seated,” said the Minister. He gestured to the younger man who had come in with him. “This is Dr. Gao, who will be helping us with this very important discussion.”

  Gao bowed, and the Minister began again. “I very much appreciate your attendance here, Professors Fu and Han. Your input on the Ministry’s decision will be critical. Your wisdom and advice are incredibly valuable to us.”

  The two academics said nothing. They were used to being complimented and seemed very comfortable with the Minister’s characterization of their importance.

  The Minister spoke again. “Although we are all aware of the issues, it is important to remind everyone that at the last meeting of the National People’s Congress, food security was the very top priority. This was stated again to me by the Presidium at their meeting last month. Our five-year plan has very clear directives for our food production and this is one objective in the five-year plan upon which all our government leaders agree. We must be self-sufficient in our own food supply.”

  He waited for his audience to signal their agreement before continuing.

  “Unfortunately, our rice production has not met our planned goals. We had a drought in many parts of the country last year. This year, the long spells of stormy weather have caused many of the farms to delay their planting and we may suffer yet another poor harvest. I have had to accelerate my discussions with my counterparts at our trading partners to secure rice imports, should we need them again. This is not a good situation for us.

  “As you all know, the five-year plan is quite specific on rice production, and we are well behind our projections. Now it seems we have an interesting opportunity with this new strain of rice from Thailand.”

  The Minister paused to gauge the reaction of the two old men, who remained expressionless. “I will now ask Dr. Gao to share his report with us.”

  Gao rose from his chair and walked to the front of the room.

  “Thank you, Minister,” he said, and turned to the others. “As you know, we have planted the Thailand strains on test plots in our farms in Hunan, and we have requested that the licensors of this technology bring in samples of rice from Thailand. I would summarize the results in a single word—‘spectacular.’

  “The licensors told us that this rice is fast-growing. Our Hunan test plots are only a few months old, and the rice is, indeed, growing much faster than we would have expected. The mature samples provided to us suggest forty percent higher yields per plant, and the protein content of the rice has been close to twenty percent in all the samples tested.”

  Gao scanned his audience to see if there were any questions, and continued. “As you have heard, this strain is said to be drought resistant and the early specimens show that it develops a root system deeper than our usual rice. Finally, the idea that the rice is ‘self-planting’—which the licensors have claimed—is not entirely correct, yet we do see many satellite plants off the planted rows.”

  Dr. Gao waited for questions from his audience. When there were none, he spoke again. “I know that you have seen the written materials I prepared earlier, and I am ready for any questions you might have on the analyses performed.”

  Professor Han asked the first question. “Who are these importers? Have they worked with the Ministry in the past?”

  The Minister pointed at Zhang to answer the question. Zhang began to explain. “Professor Han, the two importers are Liu Jun and Liu Chao. They are brothers from Hong Kong, and they have worked with the government on many licensing deals over the years. They have dealt almost exclusively with the Ministry of Science and Technology on both computer softwar
e and computer hardware. They have not worked previously with the Ministry of Agriculture. The benefits of their prior licensing arrangements have been enormous, according to our contacts in that Ministry. They are held in very high regard and their love of China is unquestioned.”

  “How did they discover this remarkable rice?” Fu asked.

  “These two individuals have many contacts around the world and they were able to connect, through their intermediaries, with a small rice breeder in Thailand who sold them this technology for what they said would be a mutually profitable deal. That is really all we know about this.”

  “And the Ministry chooses not to ask too many questions. Is that correct?” said Han.

  The Minster stepped in to answer. “Professor, in these matters, the government recognizes the need for discretion with our licensors. We ask as many questions as we need to ask, and acknowledge that there are questions better left unasked.”

  Professor Fu was the first to break the rather uncomfortable pause that followed the Minister’s comment. “Let me add to Dr. Gao’s comments. Mr. Zhang allowed me to travel to Hunan to see the plants in the test plots. I was thoroughly surprised and delighted with what I saw. For the age of the plants and the density they achieved in the plot, they look quite special. The biochemical analysis of the protein content is also remarkable. This strain seems to be high yield, fast growing, and with a great nutritional value. This rice seems remarkable in every way.”

  Professor Han was next to speak. “Minister, perhaps I am too cautious by my nature, but I have seen nothing like this before. I would urge us to be careful before we implement any widespread planting of this strain.”

  “What bothers you, Professor?” asked the Minister.