Al Sabastian sat alone in the almost empty cafeteria of M & D Agricultural Corporation staring out large windows at a blue sky spotted with puffy white clouds. A hawk—red-tailed he thought—soared high in the sky. Al wished he was soaring along side that hawk. Silly thought. But he could dream of being out in his canoe on the Boundary Waters, where he could forget the incessant anxiety that clawed at his stomach. He’d stopped in for a late lunch, but anxiety consumed his hunger, and his tuna sandwich sat untouched.
          Al’s life had lurched into an intersection where various roads forked off in different directions, each road littered with land mines. He was a good scientist, but he couldn’t figure out which road had the fewest mines, which road offered a reasonable chance for a decent life going forward. Al was part of a research team that had developed a powerful new herbicide. But questions regarding the safety of the herbicide haunted Al. Safety for people. Safety for the general environment. Huge questions he couldn’t ignore.
          “Join you?”
          Two senior members of Al’s research team, Grace and Luther, stood by his table, holding cups of coffee. “Sure.” Al tried to hide his lack of enthusiasm. He didn’t want company given how miserable he felt, but what could he say? And both were decent people.
          “You look down,” said Grace, concern showing in her deep green eyes. As always, numerous wisps of gray hair stuck out from her otherwise tight bun. “Everything okay?”
          Even though Al, at thirty-two, was the junior member of the team, Grace and Luther had always treated him as a respected and equal colleague. Al glanced around to make sure no one else was within hearing distance and decided to bring up his concerns. “It’s the safety thing with the new herbicide.”
          Luther looked up from his coffee, black eyes sharp with the intelligence that had garnered him many research accolades at the company. In two years he would retire to his cabin on a lake in the northern peninsula. His Nirvana. “You’ve got concerns?”
          “Big ones.”
          “Such as?” asked Grace.
          “Not enough research on the environmental effects of the herbicide, not to mention what it might do to people.”
          “Corporate doesn’t see any problems,” said Luther.
          “Shouldn’t there be more research on its effect on people, at the very least?” asked Al.
          “Probably,” agreed Grace before taking a sip of coffee. Luther grimaced and nodded assent.
          “So why aren’t we?” Al couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice, though he kept his voice low.
          Luther leaned closer, his eyes bright, and quietly murmured, “Profits.”
          “But what if this new herbicide is toxic? It’s going to be used on millions of acres. It’ll be everywhere—in our water, food. Everywhere. What if it kills critical species in our environment? What if it causes cancer in humans?”
          Grace glanced around to make sure no one had encroached on their space. “Don’t use the word toxic. Strictly verboten here. I have concerns, too, but I can’t bring them up. My grandson has a rare genetic disorder, and my daughter is a single mom with limited income. I can’t afford to lose this position. Not with the current job market.”
          “But surely corporate would want to know about safety concerns?” Al looked questioningly at his colleagues. “Isn’t it in the best interests of the company to head these things off before we get sued?”
          “I rather doubt corporate is overly concerned about safety at this point,” said Luther. “Profits for the first year the new herbicide goes on the market will be something like a hundred million dollars.”
          “But if we’re hurting people?” asked Al. “If we’re wrecking the environment—destroying our pollinators?”
          “Profit first,” replied Grace in a cold voice. “People and planet second.”
          “Surely someone somewhere in this company cares?”
          “Who?” asked Luther. “Not in the executive suite, for sure.”
          “What about the EPA?” Al voiced a thought that had occurred to him days earlier, that maybe he should go to the EPA with his concerns, though becoming a whistle-blower was the last thing he ever imagined doing when he signed on with M & D.
          Grace smiled. “Oh, my, you really are still wet behind the ears, my boy. Do you know who would be tasked with finding out if your fears are warranted?”
          Al shook his head.
          “It would be Dr. Miles Foreman. Formerly, CEO at M & D. Do you really think he’d let an actual investigation take place of his former company when he owns so much of its stock?”
          “It’s the revolving door in DC,” said Luther. “Industry honchos give up a few years to serve on regulatory bodies in order to protect the industries they are supposed to oversee. Classic fox guarding the chickens. After a few years, the honchos come back to the industry at fat salaries, and, oh, yeah, with all sorts of contacts in DC they can call upon to squelch things like investigations of product safety.”
          “If you want to keep your job, don’t say anything to anyone. Won’t do any good even if you did,” said Grace, then she grimaced. “Well, probably get you fired—if that’s what you want.”
          Al could only nod, and the anxiety that was wracking his stomach was flooded by a large wave of despair.
          That evening, Al restlessly paced the family room where the joy of his life, six-year-old Jenny, worked diligently at her coloring book. He loved this room. It had a fireplace with propane logs, lots of wall space for prints and paintings, and a thick carpet where he played horse with Jenny, carrying her all over the room, to delighted squeals.
          “So, are you going to tell me what’s eating you,” said Annie, his wife, looking up from the book she had stopped reading fifteen minutes ago to watch the man she adored pace the room like the proverbial caged animal.
          Al plopped down beside Annie on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, hands locked behind his head. “The herbicide project I’ve been working on. We haven’t tested it enough to ensure its safety. And I found out yesterday that some of the components have been designated carcinogens by European countries.”
          “Wouldn’t the company want to know? They’d hardly want to put a bad product on the market, would they?”
          “The herbicide we’ve produced has been green-lighted by the government, through some kind of fast-track deal. Enormous profits in the offing.”
          “What about suits and bad press if it turns out to cause cancer?”
          “I’m pretty certain this stuff won’t kill people right off. It will work slowly—over a few years. I can imagine the corporate gurus pointing to other causes for the various health problems, such as cancer, that might crop up down the line. They’ll buy off a few scientists who will produce bogus research and poo-poo the concerns.” Al sighed and felt the pain in his stomach increase.
          “But how can they expose people to something that causes cancer? Are they nuts?”
          “The rationale is that people will be exposed to such minute amounts of the cancer-causing chemicals that the poison will have no effect. But over time, those chemicals can’t be good for people or the environment. I worry about kids, especially. What will this stuff do to Jenny? To all the kids Jenny’s age?”
          “Can’t you talk to someone at the company?”
          “I’ve been told that if I make an issue of this, I’ll probably be fired.”
          “Oh.” Annie paused and considered the consequences before speaking, her voice wrapped in fear. “But, we’d lose everything. With my part-time job, we’re doing fine, but the mortgage and car payments and, my God, our college loans.”
          “I know. Which is why I don’t know what to do.” He couldn’t keep the helplessness out of his voice. “How much do we still owe on those education loans?”
          “A small pittance. Around $35,000 altogether.” Annie’s levity fell flat.
          “I hadn’t realized how much we still had to pay off.”
          “Surely there’s someone you could talk to confidentially at the company to voice your concerns?” Annie put her hand on Al’s arm and squeezed reassuringly.
          Al nodded slowly. “Maybe the V-P of research. He might be safe to talk with.”
          “You need to be careful, honey. You don’t want to get a reputation as a trouble maker.”
          Al smiled weakly at his wife. “No, I don’t want that reputation.”
          Geoffrey Godsell was Vice-President of Research at M & D, and his corner office on the top floor of the management building left no doubt to anyone entering just how important Dr. Godsell was. Two walls of floor to ceiling windows overlooked the spacious campus of M & D. Numerous plaques, awards, and photographs covered the other two walls. One photograph showed Godsell next to a smiling President of the United States. A large mahogany desk faced the door.
          Dr. Godsell sat behind the desk, smiling at Al. “What can I do for you, Al? All’s well with your team, I hope. You’ve done some mighty fine work. Bonuses for sure come Christmas. We reward energy and results, I can assure you.”
          “It’s a problem you may be unaware of.” Al spoke cautiously.
          “That’s what I’m here for, Al. What’s your concern?”
          “The safety of our new herbicide.”
          “Oh?” Godsell’s smile disappeared, snuffed out like a candle. “Explain.”
          Al took a deep breath and forged ahead. “I’ve been looking at our research on how safe this herbicide is, and it appears that we may not have done enough testing—you know, to satisfy the EPA if it started really looking into it.”
          “I see. Well, I can assure you, we needn’t worry about the EPA.” Godsell flashed Al a tight smile, suggesting that Godsell wasn’t interested in hearing more.
          Al gulped and, before fear drove him from the office, continued. “I’ve been looking at some of the French research on herbicides such as ours that suggest some of the chemicals in ours could be dangerous for the environment. And people.”
          “Absurd,” replied Godsell with a wave of his hand.
          “The data’s solid.”
          “The Frogs get worked up over nothing, and others follow like sheep. We’ve determined that our herbicide is safe. Nothing to worry about. Al, you’ve been a valued employee. Don’t blemish your excellent record here with some crazy idea that we’d sell an unsafe herbicide to the public.” Godsell rose and came from behind the desk, indicating that the interview was over. “Thanks for stopping by and voicing your concerns, but rest assured that all is well.”
          “So what’s next?” asked Annie when Al got home from work and explained what happened in his meeting with Godsell.
          “I don’t know,” replied Al, slumped on the couch, Annie next to him, holding his hand. “I’d thought about bringing this to the attention of our Congressional representative, but…”
          “That would make you a whistle-blower, wouldn’t it?”
          “It would.”
          “And your job?”
          “Gone.”
          “Where would we go? My parents don’t have room for us—and neither do yours.”
          “We could live above Dad’s garage. Plenty of room for the three of us.”
          “You’re kidding?” Annie looked at Al with real fear in her eyes.
          “I’m kidding,” replied Al, suddenly assaulted by a lethargy he’d never experienced before, wanting only to curl up and sleep until all his problems had disappeared.
          “Are you really considering going to our Congressman?” Annie’s voice shook as she asked the question.
          Al shook his head. “I thought about it, but then I did some checking on the internet. Congressman Boyle gets substantial campaign money from M & D each election cycle, and I daresay the corporate heads also give to him individually. He would have zero interest in helping me.”
          Al’s cell rang. “Hello.”
          “Dr. Al Sabastian?”
          “Yes. Who’s this?”
          “Not important. A quick message. If you don’t want any unforeseen accidents to happen to your lovely wife or that cute little daughter of yours, forget about safety issues with the new herbicide. Understand?”
          “Who are you? How dare you?”
          “Oh, I dare. You’ve been warned.” The line went dead.
          “My God,” said a horrified Annie when Al recited the caller’s words. “How can this be happening to us?”
          “Godsell,” said Al, feeling completely helpless. “That slimy bastard.”
          “You won’t take this any farther, will you?” Annie’s eyes were wide with naked fear. She couldn’t bear the thought of Jenny being threatened.
          Fear coursed through Al’s veins. He’d never been so afraid before—not just for himself, but for the two people he loved most in all the world. Especially Jenny. But it was Jenny and the millions like Jenny who needed protecting, not from a single caller, but from toxic chemicals. “Doesn’t Jenny deserve to be protected from something that could do so much damage to her? And almost certainly her children?”
          “Yes. Of course. But you’ve been threatened. We’ve all been threatened. What’s the good if we’re all…killed?” Annie was shaking as she finished. “How’s that going to help? Let someone else take care of it.”
          “Who?”
          “Someone. Anyone. I don’t know.”
          “I did something a couple of days ago Annie. Mostly because I didn’t really think Godsell would help. I emailed an investigative reporter at The New York Times, telling him just enough to find out if he were interested. He wants to meet me. But now. I don’t know. I’m no hero. I’m just a scientist. I don’t know what to do.”
          “Did you set up a meeting?”
          “He’s supposed to call about now.”
          “What will you tell him?”
          Al didn’t respond immediately as he stared at the Maine seascape hanging on the wall, waves crashing onto rocks while sea gulls soared above, wishing he could be there, be a sea gull. “I thought when I was married, had a good job and all, that life would be easy. Those teen years were torture most of the time, especially for someone who was basically a nerd. I thought by thirty I’d have it all figured out. Smooth sailing into a far-off sunset with the ones I love most.”
          “But life’s more complicated than anything you ever expected, isn’t it, sweetie?” Annie snuggled in close to Al, grasping his right arm with both her hands, squeezing protectively.
          “Yeah.”
          “And?”
          “I don’t know. So much is out of my control. And the constant fear and anxiety is killing me. I can’t imagine what a basket case I’d be if I talked to the reporter knowing I was putting you and Jenny in danger.”
          “Oh, Al. I’m so torn. I want you to do the right thing, but I’m scared to death for Jenny after that phone call.”
          “If I do nothing, I make a decision, don’t I?”
          Annie nodded in agreement.
          “What should I do?”
          “I don’t know, love. I don’t know.”
          “But whether or not I talk to the reporter, I’ve made a decision.” At that moment, Al’s cell rang. He slowly pulled it from his pocket, his hand shaking slightly. The number told him it was the reporter. With a long sigh, he answered, even as he felt Annie’s grip tighten on his arm.