His gaze at her was level. His jaw set. “I cut a deal with the Chinese,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’re on the precipice of a major food crisis, and they know it. The wealthier Chinese are demanding more meat in their diets, which requires more corn to feed the livestock. The new Chinese wealth is spiking food demands all over the country. Corn has become the key commodity feeding the world. It’s in all our processed foods. Feeding corn to livestock that was built by evolution to eat grass is what allows us to eat meat any moment of the day that we want it. Forget the foreign oil debate. We’re more dependent on corn for our survival than on any single commodity. The Chinese government realized they simply cannot meet the growing demand using traditional agriculture practices.”

“But why this corn? Why not just increase exports?”

“Because we can’t grow enough of the stuff,” Martin replied, as though the answer were obvious. “Genetic engineering is the only way to make truly high-yield corn. To meet future global food demand, farmers need to grow corn at a rate of three hundred bushels an acre. That’s almost a two hundred percent increase from current yields. The Chinese see the long-term value in what we’re proposing to trade. This revolutionary corn—the corn on your train—will virtually guarantee China’s food security through the next millennium. Ours, too. The Chinese government understands that the fastest way to lose control over their citizens is to allow them to starve. And it will happen, unless the food demand is curbed … or met.”

Darlene felt ill. Her husband was not only in bed with the Chinese government, but he was in bed with Chester Enterprises as well. She opened a bottle of water and drank without using a glass. “What are you trading?” she asked, her voice breaking nevertheless.

“The technology to make this corn,” answered Martin. “The corn shipment you’re so concerned about is the first of many planned exchanges with the Chinese. We’re giving them enough corn to meet the food demands of a city the size of Beijing, along with the technology to produce high-yield corn on their own.”

“You mean the tools to mutate termites and create potentially dangerous food,” Darlene snapped.

Martin began pacing. The tic below his lip grew more intense. “What is with you, Darlene?” Martin fired back. “There is nothing wrong with this corn. Why do you think I have the USDA! They have tested it. It was approved by my personally chosen Secretary of Agriculture for human consumption.”

“Don’t be so quick to discount me, Martin,” Darlene said, anger making her voice shake.

“I’m not discounting you. I’m trying to make you understand. There’s a difference.”

“And how are the Chinese going to save your presidency?”