Snippet #2816215

In the West Wing, Monica reached for the proffered cylinder from Irina. "Thank you, Dr. Kawandi," she said with a nod. "I'll make sure it gets to our lab right away," she said, neglecting to mention that the twenty-some odd staff in the Development Ministry's agricultural lab were currently hard at work attempting to develop a set of new rice hybrids for use in Caldonia, Losenji, and Ebouma, a pet project of the deputy minister that she doubted he'd be too eager to sacrifice even if Minister Tesfaye sent the orders himself. She frowned then. "Wait, I'm sorry. You're saying that someone intended to plant the infected specimen here on Terra? But ... why?" She glanced at Tesfaye, who raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Do you have reason to believe this is corporate sabotage?" Tesfaye asked.

"Or - or biological warfare," Monica said, looking back toward their guests. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"No, not biological warfare," said Tesfaye, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Crops like these would take too long to propagate in sufficient numbers. Too many seasons." He looked to Kawandi with a darkening eye. "Who do you suspect is responsible, and why?"

***

In the main entry hall, Shiya Calusdian had noticed the arrival of the Taiyou immediately. She'd always been able to spot them - especially the ones with imperial pedigrees or connections, even if they came without a full entourage. They always wore something with the imperial crest or one of another half-dozen symbols representing the throne. She busied herself with a stack of mostly outdated message forms behind the desk until they approached. The Justice Ministry. "Of course," responded Calusdian, with a polite, respectful bow. They all had to know protocol, of course. "Weapons in the lockers there, then pass through security. I'll need ID's here, and I'll just call upstairs for you."

This was a formality of course, but had to be done. After all, despite Shiya's well honed eye for Taiyou imperials, anyone could be an impostor. You never knew. She called up, and after a few moments of harried shouting on the other end, forced a smile. "Up on the third floor, Ministers Vilhjálmsdóttir and Dvořák will receive you. Would you like to head upstairs on your own?" Two ministers spelled trouble. All Shiya knew was she wanted nothing to do with it.