haunted Washington like the ghost of Calhoun. And finally I got ten
minutes with El Pomposo himself.

As I've said, dumb students are nothing new to me. But even the worst of
them couldn't have been any more obtuse than Bishop. I had the dead
plants, all brown and withered. There were simple charts showing
exactly, in terms of time, how the virus worked, killing the poppy
within forty-eight hours, and even destroying the viability of any seeds
that might be ripening.

Did this jughead appointed by the President to fight the terrible drug
problem comprehend the miracle being offered to him? The simple solution
that would make him the greatest--in fact, the only--success in his post
that this country had ever known? Not he. I had to spell it out in
nursery school terms.

But I've penetrated many a numbskull in class by dint of persistent
drilling, and finally got through to the cold oatmeal under his parietal
bones.

Did that clear the air? If you think so, guess again. He threw up his
hands in horror. Turn a plant disease loose on the world deliberately!
It was a violation of the conventions against germ warfare. It was
barred by international law. It was unthinkable that the United States
would indulge in such irresponsible behavior.

All right, I said. Take it to the U.N. Let them distribute the poppy
killer. He brightened a little at that, since every bureaucrat loves
above all to pass the buck. A clear-cut decision is fatal to the
species. Then he gave me a note to our delegate, Wilbur Cavanaugh, Jr.

This character was a bit sharper. He heard me out, looked at my deceased
poppies, and arranged a conference with a bigwig from the State
Department. Then things got really messy. When I pointed out that in a
few weeks every damned opium plant in Asia would be deader than the Ming
Dynasty, this little creep from Foggy Bottom almost had kittens on the
spot. It seems that just now our relations with Red China are highly
delicate. If we turned the virus loose on them, even if it did kill only
poppies (and he had his doubts about that. What if--shudder--it attacked
rice?) the Reds would scream murder. They'd yell germ warfare, and have
us cold. They could ship us opium by the long ton--that didn't affect
the delicate condition, though.

* * * * *

It seemed to me, however, that there was something ambiguous and wistful
in the State man's attitude, and I thought I understood. When a cou