Authors: Kenneth Eade
Seth kept a close eye on Bill’s office every afternoon after Bill left, waiting for his opportunity. During his surveillance of Bill’s office, he had observed Richard Roberts there on at least two more occasions. Roberts was a lanky gray haired nerd with coke bottle glasses, which Seth supposed he had constantly remove for ass kissing and brown nosing.
The coziness of company officials and the EPA and FDA was nothing new. When they were not working for the company, they were both working at the EPA or the FDA, and when they were not working for the EPA or FDA, they had a place at the company. It was called the “revolving door” and neither Washington nor the company made any attempt to conceal it. The many meetings that Roberts had with Bill didn’t look right, especially in light of the report Seth had just turned in on Bt corn.
The timing of the break-in had to line up fortuitously, so Seth had to be prepared to move on a moment’s notice. The best time was after most of the personnel had left and only the die-hard workaholics like Seth remained at their respective posts. Seth had spent enough time at the company after hours to know the schedules of the maintenance people, and knew each one by name. They would not suspect anything if they saw him wandering the corridors to get a caffeine fix or use the restroom.
Insomnia from 1:00 a.m. to 6:00 a.m., fatigue from 9 to 5, and anxiety thereafter became a routine for Seth for the next two weeks. Then, when it seemed that he would never have an opportunity, all of the ducks lined up in a row. Bill had left at the usual time, between 5 and 6, the cleaning crew had left early, and Seth found himself almost alone with enough time to break into Bill’s office, hack his computer, check his files, and leave at about his normal 10 to 11 p.m., without arousing the suspicion of security.
Of course, Seth had neither made nor used a bump key before, nor had he hacked a computer so he had practiced on his apartment lock with a bump key, which worked famously, and practiced changing passwords on his own PC at home. If crime was your career choice, the Internet had a play by play explanation of how to break and enter and hack into computers, among any other criminal skills you could imagine. There were even YouTube videos on the subject that you could play and follow along with.
Carefully, Seth maneuvered his way toward Bill’s office in the general direction of the coffee machine, with his coffee cup in hand – the one with the company logo. As he approached the door of Bill’s office, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the pulse in his neck. With the anxiety, his heart rate had increased to at least 130 bpm, which is what you would expect on a nice jog, and he was hardly moving.
Seth looked up and down the corridor and, seeing nobody, got out his bump key and screwdriver. He inserted the bump key – a perfect fit – as it had been on his own office door. Then he tapped with the screwdriver and turned the key, only to find resistance. The bump key was not turning the lock. “Shit, after all this the fucking thing doesn’t work,” he thought, as he wiggled the bump key in the lock, while, at the same time, looking up and down the corridor, as if he were crossing a busy street and trying to check his cell phone at the same time. Another tap, tap with the screwdriver and nothing. Then Seth heard footsteps in the corridor, aborted the mission, and headed to the coffee machine.
What had gone wrong? The bump key had worked on his own office door and all the locks at the company were the same, unless Bill had had his replaced with one that was not "bumpable,” although the statistic Seth had read on the Internet was, due to the high cost of good locks, most locks could be bumped. It was a reality of economics that most people could spend $30 more on a good lock to protect themselves and their valuables, but chose not to do so. Perhaps the common man had not done the same economic analysis as industry does with their products.
For example, when a product showed a particular dangerous defect, such as an exploding gas tank, industry would run actuary tables on the estimated amount it would cost to make the product safe versus the amount they would have to pay out in product liability defense and settlements, and opt for the cheapest alternative. Maybe it was cheaper to save money on the locks in the short run, or maybe insurance companies should give premium rebates to make up the difference in the higher cost lock. Seth found himself occupied with these mental tangents in between break-in attempts.
Seth vowed to himself that this would be the night and he still had enough time to get into Bill’s office and do what needed to be done without arousing suspicion. A trip to the restroom normally followed not too long after a coffee trip, so he figured he would keep repeating the process until he got in.
Seth waited what he thought was the appropriate amount of time for his return pass at Bill’s office. Seeing nobody in the corridor, he put the bump key in and gave it a smack, and nothing. Again, he heard footsteps approaching, so he decided to give it a harder whack and, if that did not work, he would abort the mission until the next opportunity. The echo of footsteps was getting louder and louder. This time he decided not to be shy, and kept tapping and trying to move the bump key until, finally, it turned, and Seth slipped in.
It was either civil disobedience or his first act of criminality. The law was relative. The genocide by man of thousands of species, even one gene off from his own was never considered a crime, and the criminals went unpunished. But whomever blew the whistle on this latest assault to the environment was more likely to be regarded as a criminal rather than a hero. Mother Nature was a great equalizer. No matter how powerful man dreamed to become, She could equalize it all with a few randomly placed earthquakes, floods, or both. But it seemed that She was patient. She would let man kill themselves off. The earth would be reborn again, and a new species would eventually become the new rapists and pillagers of the planet.
Once inside Bill’s office, Seth breathed a sigh of relief. As he locked the door behind himself, he became aware for the first time that he was sweating profusely, not only from his brow, but the palms of his hands as well. He definitely was a better scientist than a criminal, and made a mental note to thank his parents for helping him with his higher education, and to especially thank his father for suggesting it.
Seth powered up Bill’s computer, and, as he was waiting for it to boot up, went through his desk drawers, which were all unlocked and revealed nothing, except for one. The desk lock was even simpler to bump than the door, and Seth was prepared with a bump key for that as well, modeled after the key to his own desk drawer. He kept the lights off in Bill’s office, so as not to arouse suspicion, so he used a small flashlight to see.
Seth looked through each file in the “secret drawer.” Interestingly, there was a government issued directory of every employee at the EPA. There was a file with handwritten notes of conversations with EPA administrators. Seth photographed the notes with his cell phone. Then, Seth came across an unexpected find; a file folder with internal EPA reports and one with internal FDA reports.
There was a report from the FDA on the dangers of the use of the CaMV virus as a promoter in genetic engineering, outlining the danger of horizontal transfer of the promoter to reactivate dormant viruses, and the potential to create even new viruses. The CaMV virus was the company’s choice, not because it was the only choice to activate the foreign GMO gene implants to produce the desired traits, but because it was the easiest. The report warned of possible abnormal cell formation in the stomach and colon, a precursor to cancer. Seth photographed it as well.
Seth did not expect to find such a treasure trove of information. He was mainly there to see if his own report had been communicated to anyone in the government, and he had not even looked in Bill’s computer files yet, which would be a lot easier to copy than shooting photographs, page by page, of the hard copy of a lengthy government report.
There was a report from Bill while he was Deputy Commissioner of the FDA, why milk from cows who had been given the genetically engineered growth hormone, rBGH, did not need to be labeled. To make rBGH, the company inserted a cow’s growth hormone gene into E. Coli bacteria. That was then injected into dairy cows’ bloodstream to increase their production of milk. Of course, this report was common knowledge, so Seth didn’t have to copy it. The CaMV report had apparently not seen its way past Bill’s desk drawer.
There were records of Bill’s meetings with the U.S. Vice President. Seth didn’t have time to study them, opting to photograph them and read them later. They had to do with “reducing regulatory burden.” With regard to genetically engineered foods, the company practically regulated itself. It submitted reports to the FDA, which were regularly and habitually rubber stamped by the regulators.
It was difficult to determine which side of the revolving door the FDA regulators were on and which side the company’s officials were on, and some of them moved between the two camps as often as someone would move up the ranks in promotion. The same was true with the EPA, the other regulator of company products.
The lax on regulation was touted as “reforms” to get better agricultural products to farmers and consumers, but, again, this was common knowledge for anyone who cared to look into it. While Bill had been Deputy Commissioner of the FDA, he had been responsible for formulating some of the current policies concerning genetically engineered foods still in use today; that GM foods are no riskier than any others, and that the FDA had no information to the contrary, and that if a GMO food was the nutritional equivalent of its ordinary counterpart, it was generally recognized as safe (or GRAS). Seth wondered what Bill would say if he were back at the FDA now that he had reviewed Seth’s report on Bt corn.
As he dug deeper, the smell of corruption became even stronger. Contrary to the general statement of safety, the FDA’s own microbiologist had submitted reports that genetic engineering was profoundly different than traditional breeding and summarized the dangerous effects of GM foods that may not become apparent until many years later.
There was a toxicology report warning of high concentrations of plant toxins, which justified a full toxicology study, which, of course, never occurred. There was a report recommending the testing of each GM food before it is exposed to the public, pointing out that residues of plant constituents or toxins in meat and milk products may pose human food safety concerns.
There was a memo from FDA scientists on the use of the antibiotic resistant marker gene, warning of the dangers of introducing the gene into the flora of the general population in creating possible resistances to common antibiotics.
Finally, the biggest prize of all; a report on the toxicity of the Bt toxin as produced by genetically engineered plants, and it was not Seth’s report. It was an EPA report that explained why nerdy little Richard Roberts had been sneaking around lately. He must have been reporting to Bill. Seth photographed the report, and glanced at his watch to check the time. He had already been in Bill’s office for an hour and had not even read one file from his computer. Seth had to work fast or he would surely be caught.
Seth quickly powered up Bill’s computer and temporarily reset his password so he could get in. The first thing he did was load a spyware program into the computer, which allowed him to access the computer remotely from his office and monitor everything that Bill did while he was logged in, including his emails. Next, he began the tedious task of looking through every file folder for anything damaging; especially for electronic copies of the paper reports he had just seen. Seth copied whatever looked suspicious onto his flash drive.
Time seemed to be running faster now than it did before, and Seth was so anxious that he found himself worrying more about getting caught than getting what he had worked so hard to get. Then, suddenly, he heard a key turning in the lock on Bill’s door. Seth quickly switched the monitor off, but didn’t have time to kill the computer, which kept quietly humming, and he dove under Bill’s desk, just as the janitor walked in. Seth was wrong; they had not completed their rounds; they were late tonight. He tried to breathe more quietly; his anxiety fought the effort.
Luckily, it was Steve, the worst janitor the company had. If you were unlucky enough to have Steve clean up your office, you would have dirty floors, dusty tables, and a generally messy outcome. About all Steve was capable of doing was emptying the wastebasket. Thank God.
Steve was wearing headphones and an iPod. Seth could have had a coughing fit and Steve never would have heard him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Steve haphazardly run the vacuum randomly across the floor in no particular pattern as he danced around to the music. Still, Seth became as still and quiet as a rock when Steve reached over behind the desk to grab the wastebasket. What would Seth say to Steve if he found him sitting there under Bill’s desk? There was nothing really he could say. “Hi Steve, just sittin’ here under Bill’s desk, in his locked office.” Or how about, “Steve, you do such a shitty job with cleaning that I thought I would hide and actually watch you and, if you don’t start doing a better job, I’m going to report you.” That was the variant that Seth would say if Steve saw him crouching there. Then he could indignantly storm out of Bill’s office.
Steve set the wastebasket back and it hit Seth’s left elbow as he did. Seth stayed under Bill’s desk for what seemed an eternity. As a kid, he would have thought that this was somehow cozy. He used to make “forts” out of different materials and sit in them, in exactly the same manner he was crouched under Bill’s desk. But all he felt now was nervous, cramped and uncomfortable. Finally, Steve rolled his janitor cart out of Bill’s office, switched off the lights and closed the door.
Seth quickly got back to work, turning the monitor back on and looking for more buried treasure. Not only did he find the electronic copies of the FDA and EPA reports, he also found his own, fully equipped with comments that Bill had made on the document itself. It was enough information to indict Bill and the company for serious criminal activity, and enough to kill any aspirations Bill may have had of being in politics. He had been through the revolving door so many times, Seth supposed that Bill took his close relationship with the government for granted, and that was his mistake.
Seth temporarily suppressed his knee-jerk reaction to close the computer and go, now that he had found what he was looking for, but he decided, “What the hell, I’ve come this far, might as well do a thorough job.” After another half hour of digging through files, the effort paid off. Seth uncovered a document marked “Classified.” It appeared to be a report covering results on other genetic insertions of not only insecticide type agents, but agents developed from viruses, bacteria and fungus that could be inserted into plants to cross pollinate with and eradicate coca and opium poppy plants in regions like Afghanistan, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Colombia, Bolivia and Peru. The report’s premise was that this technology could be helpful for the development of biological weapons, and that is why it was marked as classified.
The report came as a shock to Seth. Once a deadly virus or toxin was inserted into the particular ecosystem where the drug producing plants were to be eradicated, the plants could contaminate other plants or animals, or even the entire ecosystem. Many of these drug producing areas, such as Colombia, were adjacent to or even hidden among rainforests. Rainforests cover only a small part of the earth, but produce most of the world’s oxygen. The Amazon rainforest, which included Colombia, is called the “Lungs of the Earth,” because it produces approximately 20% of the world’s oxygen. To allow the intrusion of a drug fighting GMO into this ecosystem could be devastating to the world’s environment. To allow the technology to be used for biological warfare would be disastrous to say the least.
Seth took another “once over” of all the folders in Bill’s computer, making a note to double check and make sure that he had not missed anything when he remotely accessed the computer from his office. He powered off the computer and monitor, stood up, and was about to leave when the door opened again, and once more he dove under the desk. It was Steve again, out to cure his reputation as the worst janitor on earth. Now he apparently had decided to pretend to dust the office furniture. Seth watched Steve’s feet from under the desk as he moved around the office, perfunctorily dusting with his feather duster to the music playing between his ears. Then the feet were right in front of him, as Steve dusted Bill’s desk and computer. Seth could see the Nike logos on Steve’s sneakers and his one floppy untied lace, they were so close to his view. So close, if Steve had moved his feet an inch closer, he would have kicked Seth. This time under the desk seemed even longer. Then, something happened that was even worse. Steve sat down in Bill’s chair and popped open a coke. He was taking a break. Seth curled up and waited for the laziest janitor in the world to finish his coffee break.