Peter May - The Firemaker

McCord seemed taken aback by her vehemence. Others around the table sat in fascinated silence, initial offence overcome by curiosity at the spectacle of these two yangguizi battling it out. As a puzzled Veronica returned to the table, Bob slipped inconspicuously away.

‘Sensible constraints? What’s sensible about them?’

‘What’s sensible about them is that they stop arrogant scientists with God complexes releasing genetically altered materials into the environment without the least idea of what the long-term effects are likely to be.’

‘I’d have thought the effects were obvious. Long-term or otherwise. A lot of hungry people are getting fed.’

‘But at what cost? How did you develop this “super-rice”, Dr McCord? Built-in insecticide, antifungal, antiviral genes?’

He was genuinely taken aback by the extent of her knowledge. Then he remembered. ‘Of course, you’re a doctor, aren’t you? Well, I’m glad you’re interested.’ He relaxed again. ‘Naturally, I realise genetics isn’t your speciality, so let me explain it to you — in terms that you’ll understand.’ He made a fist and extended his little finger. ‘Think of my little finger as being like a virus,’ he said. Then he smiled salaciously. ‘Or perhaps you’d be more comfortable thinking of the virus as being like something more familiar to you — like a penis.’ Veronica blushed deeply, and Mr Cao and Dr Wu’s husband turned their eyes down to the table.

‘No, let’s stick with your little finger,’ Margaret said, ‘since your penis probably isn’t any bigger.’

He grinned. ‘Bear with me. My little finger represents a penis, representing a virus I’m going to put into the rice. Okay? Now imagine I slip a rubber over my penis.’ And he ran his forefinger and thumb down the length of his little finger. ‘And this represents the protein overcoat of the virus. Because, after all, what is a virus except a gene with a protein overcoat?’

Margaret nodded. ‘Okay.’

McCord said, ‘So, to this overcoat I attach the gene fragments I want to introduce to the rice — the stuff that’s going to make it disease and insect-resistant. We insert the virus into the rice, like the penis into the vagina. Only, once inside the rubber slips off and sends my gene fragments to all the right places, like sperm to the egg.’ He sat back, pleased with himself, and drained his glass.

Margaret was incensed. ‘So, effectively, you’ve contaminated the entire rice crop of China with a virus.’

McCord nodded happily. ‘Sure. But it’s a harmless plant virus. Hell, we eat the damned things all the time. And a virus is the best carrier for the genes. ’Cos, you see, a virus only has one aim in life, and that’s to reproduce. So it carries the genes into every cell, and bingo! We just helped Mother Nature do a better job.’

Margaret shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you’ve actually gone into production with this stuff, that you actually think you’re somewhere up there with “Mother Nature”. Jesus Christ, McCord, you’re tinkering at the edges of a billion years of evolution. You can’t possibly know what kind of monster you’re releasing into the environment.’

‘Dr McCord,’ a friendly voice boomed out, and a big hand slapped down on his shoulder.

Margaret looked up, startled to see Bob with Li Yan and Li’s animated friend from the table downstairs. It was the friend who greeted McCord with such bonhomie. McCord looked up at him, confused.

‘What… Who the hell are you?’

‘Ma Yongli. Chef at the Jingtan. Don’t you remember? Good friend of Lotus. She’s waiting for you back at the hotel.’ He grinned and winked.

‘Is she? I didn’t know that.’

‘She says you made an arrangement.’

‘Really? Jeez, I don’t remember.’

Yongli almost lifted him out of his chair. ‘Come on. We’ll get you a taxi. Don’t want keep Lotus waiting, huh?’

‘Hell, no.’

And Yongli led him off towards the stairs. Bob shook Li’s hand. ‘Thanks, Li Yan. Appreciate it.’

Li smiled. ‘My pleasure.’ He nodded acknowledgment to Professor Jiang and they exchanged a few words. He nodded to the others around the table until his eyes fell on Margaret. The clear contempt they held for her had an almost withering effect and she flushed with embarrassment and lowered her eyes. And she wished with all her heart that she had never come to China. When she looked up again he had gone. A buzz of conversation broke out around the table and Bob pulled up a chair beside her.

‘Not the most auspicious of starts,’ he said through clenched teeth.

‘I didn’t invite him,’ she said.

‘You didn’t have to engage him in open warfare.’

‘I wouldn’t have had to if you people had had the balls to tell him where to go.’

‘We couldn’t!’ Bob was in danger of raising his voice. He stopped himself and lowered it again. ‘McCord has connections in this town. His whole rice project had the backing of Pang Xiaosheng, former Minister of Agriculture, now a member of the Politburo — and a national hero. It was Pang who persuaded the leadership to do the deal with Grogan Industries, and it’s Pang who’s reaped the rewards. He’s the bookie’s favourite to be the next leader of the People’s Republic.’ Bob stopped to draw a grim breath. ‘And you don’t fuck with people like that, Margaret.’

It was dark outside as Li and Yongli escorted the now semiconscious McCord through the tunnel from the restaurant to the street. A sleepy trishaw driver lingering in the carpark raised a hopeful eye, assessed the situation, and relapsed into a semi-slumber. The traffic had not abated, and the street was still crowded, ablaze with the lights of neons and vehicles. Li waved at an air-conditioned taxi, but it was occupied and sailed past. He turned and whispered to Yongli, ‘He’s going to be pretty disappointed when he finds out that Lotus isn’t waiting for him back at the hotel.’

Yongli shrugged. ‘I’ll give her a call. She’ll take care of him.’

Li looked at his friend with complete incomprehension. ‘You’d ask her to do that?’

‘Why not? The guy’s drunk. It’s not as though he’d be any threat. She’s dealt with him before.’

Li shook his head. He knew he would never understand his friend’s relationship with Lotus. He waved down another taxi, but a black Volvo with darkened windows swung into the space at the kerb and blocked it off. The taxi driver honked his horn furiously, but decided against an argument with the Volvo and screeched away in a temper. A large, uniformed chauffeur stepped out and took McCord’s arm from Yongli. ‘I’ll take Dr McCord,’ he said.

‘Back to the hotel?’ Yongli was puzzled by the sudden appearance of the chauffeur-driven limousine.

‘No. He has an appointment elsewhere.’ The chauffeur opened the back door and bundled McCord unceremoniously inside.

‘Hey, I got a rendezvous with Lotus,’ McCord protested, suddenly aware that plans were being changed over his head. The door was slammed shut on him and he disappeared from view behind the tinted windows. The chauffeur slipped behind the wheel, and the car whispered away into the traffic.

‘Government car,’ Yongli said thoughtfully. ‘Wonder where they’re taking him?’

Li knew better than even to think of asking.

Tuesday Morning

Buses and bicycles fought for space among the people and traffic that clogged the narrow artery that was Chaoyangmen Nanxiaojie Street. It ran north to south, dissecting the centre-east of the city. Cycling north along it took Li directly into the heart of Dongcheng District, where the Beijing Municipal Police had sited the new operational headquarters of Section One. The final stretch before the intersection with Dongzhimennei Street was heavily shaded by leaning, leafy trees, and was a deliciously cool escape from the early morning heat. Li coasted the last few hundred yards, enjoying the respite, and pulled over at the corner of Dongzhimennei. Mei Yuan greeted him with her usual ‘Hi, have you eaten?’