Royal Tioga and M-206
The palliative care ward on the seventh floor of the Sacramento General Hospital was filled with the rhythmic, mechanical beeping of monitors, each pulse a heavy weight on Jacob’s heart. On the small bedside table, a glass of water and a single family photograph sat neatly arranged.
Lying in the bed was Lucas Miller, Jacob’s father, now in the final stages of pancreatic cancer. Though his voice was weak from the pain medication, his expression remained sharp and clear. Jacob sat in the chair beside him, holding his father’s hand.
“Son.”
“Yes, Father.”
“How is your mother?”
“...She doesn’t like to act sad in front of me.”
“That’s because she’s a strong woman. You need to find a strong woman, too. A farmer’s wife has to be strong.”
“I will. I’ll make sure to find someone like that.”
Lucas gasped for air, his breathing labored, before he spoke again.
“The farm... you have to protect it.”
Jacob gripped his father’s hand tighter, nodding deeply instead of answering. After catching his breath, Lucas continued slowly.
“The farm... it isn’t just a place to earn money to survive. It’s the roots of our family. Your grandfather... and the generations before him, they always knew that.”
“I know.”
“Remember that. Our family’s foundation is agriculture.”
A fit of coughing followed. Jacob picked up the cup and offered him a sip of water. Lucas smoothed his brow and looked directly at Jacob.
“That friend of yours... the one who helped with the pests?”
“Brian.”
“Right. He might be right... or he might be wrong. But whether you follow his lead or choose a different path... the choice is yours.”
“......”
“Choices come with responsibility. Don’t ever forget that.”
Jacob bowed his head. A hot drop fell onto the back of his hand, which he quickly wiped away. Lucas moved his hand slightly, patting Jacob’s hand twice.
“Father... I’ll do it. I’ll protect Mom, and I’ll protect the farm.”
“Good.”
Lucas offered a faint, thin smile. His lips were parched, the kind of smile seen on those who have endured for a long time. “Alright, you should go now. I need to get some sleep.”
That evening, as he left the hospital room, Jacob caught his reflection in the hallway window. He looked like a stranger. It was the same face he’d had yesterday, yet something felt fundamentally different.
Two days later, at the Riverbend Rice Farm on the outskirts of Sacramento, Jacob stood looking out over the vast, barren winter fields. The combine harvester was tucked away in the shed, and the rice paddy levees had been prepped for the season. The cold air carried a faint, earthy scent.
“Brian!”
As I stepped out of my car, the hulking figure of Jacob approached with a grin.
“You’re here.”
Up close, however, there was a lingering sense of melancholy in his smile.
“Is everything alright?”
“No... no, it’s fine. Let’s go.”
He seemed a bit different from when we’d met at the end of the year, but I didn’t press him. Inside the house, Mrs. Maggie welcomed me with her usual wide smile.
“Brian! Happy New Year~”
“Happy New Year to you too, ma’am.”
“You’re here to talk work with Jacob, right? Please, take good care of him.”
“Hahaha, of course.”
At that moment, Jacob interjected.
“Mom, we’re friends, but Brian follows strict business rules. You shouldn’t be like that.”
I stared at him, bewildered, as I’d never shown him that side of myself. Mrs. Maggie looked apologetic.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please don’t think of it that way.”
“What are you talking about? It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing... I heard it all from Armando. He said you have a very strict business mindset.”
“Ah...”
That bastard... what kind of rumors has he been spreading about me?
“It’s fine. I understand. Honestly, I prefer it that way. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone either.”
“No... you don’t have to go that far...”
“Let’s go to my room.”
Upstairs, Jacob’s room was a quintessential American boy’s bedroom: a basketball hoop on the door, posters of American cartoons, and even a slightly risqué pin-up poster.
The only things that stood out were the textbooks on his desk: Fundamentals of Rice Crop Science, Sustainable Agriculture and the International Rice-Wheat System, and a Manual on Rice Cultivation.
“You didn’t just put these here for show, did you?”
“What do you take me for? Look through them. You’ll see my notes.”
I flipped through the books, and sure enough, they were heavily annotated.
“Sit.”
I took the desk chair, and Jacob sat on his bed. It bothered me slightly to see him sitting on the bed in his outdoor clothes, but I didn’t say anything. That was the culture here. Naturally, he kept his shoes on inside the house as well.
“I talked to my father.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he’d respect my choice. He finally acknowledged me as the head of the household.”
I nodded silently, and Jacob took a deep breath before continuing.
“So I’ve decided. I want to receive consulting, just like Chloe’s Harris Farm.”
“Do you know what the contract entails?”
“Chloe gave me the gist of it. I definitely want to sign a contract. It’ll be more secure that way.”
“Well... signing is one thing, but... I feel like Armando painted me as some kind of cold-blooded monster...”
“He said you were very thorough? That you wouldn’t treat someone like a person if they couldn’t separate business from friendship?”
“......”
“Like I said, I’m fine with that. Again, I think that’s the right way to do things.”
He seemed to have a massive misunderstanding, but that wasn’t the priority, so I changed the subject.
“Okay, understood. I’ll prepare the contract. I’ll use the same one I have with Chloe, just changing the farm name.”
“Sounds good.”
“Then, assuming we’re under contract... what’s your primary variety right now?”
As we dove into the serious discussion, Jacob straightened his posture and spoke calmly.
“202.”
“M-202, huh...”
M-202 was a representative medium-grain rice developed by UC Davis, known for maintaining high quality while offering excellent yield and stability. In Korea, medium-grain varieties would be comparable to Odae or Sindongjin rice.
“Why?”
“Let’s change the variety. Chloe’s farm requires a huge investment to switch crops, but for rice, it’s not that expensive. It shouldn’t cost more than ten thousand dollars, right? If you’re nervous, we can start with just 30%.”
“...What... what are we switching to?”
“The university that developed the 202 is planning to release the 206 soon.”
“Oh! I think I heard about that. But I haven’t heard when it’s being released.”
That was expected. If you majored in agriculture or plant breeding at UC Davis, you might see new varieties in the experimental plots or hear rumors, but policy-level decisions were shared through professors, researchers, the CCRRF (California Cooperative Rice Research Foundation), and industry partners.
M-206 was tested between 2003 and 2004 and approved for distribution in 2005. It would go on to become the dominant variety in Sacramento until M-211 was released in 2020.
“So it’s an improvement over the 202?”
“Exactly. It has better quality and a shorter growth cycle. As you know, a shorter cycle means you can avoid cold damage or plant later while still harvesting on time, which adds stability for the farmer.”
“I know. Anything else?”
“It’s more resistant to lodging. It’s better for mechanical harvesting, so the yield per acre is expected to be much higher than the 202.”
I knew all of this, but since it hadn’t been released in reality yet, I pretended I was just relaying information.
“Ah... then there’s no reason not to switch, right?”
“If you trust our school?”
“Hmm... alright. Let’s do 50% this year. Last year’s harvest was decent, so if 50% comes out right, I can survive even if there’s a problem.”
“Don’t worry. Later on, we’ll add premium varieties to sell to sushi restaurants. Also, there’s something we need to do this winter.”
“What is it?”
“Laser Land Leveling.”
“What?”
Seeing Jacob’s confused reaction, I explained slowly.
“If you look closely at your paddies, some spots are deep and some are shallow. You know that, right?”
“Yeah...”
“When that happens, you end up using too much water. Did you know that rice growth rates vary based on water depth and soil moisture?”
“I think I heard that.”
“Right. Shallow areas dry out faster and heat up, which accelerates heading and grain filling. Deep areas stay cool, but the roots lack oxygen, which delays growth.”
“I remember hearing that from a professor.”
His eyes lit up as he nodded; he clearly knew what I was talking about.
“Good, you weren’t sleeping in class. Also, fertilizers and herbicides don’t spread evenly because of the depth differences.”
“Ah! That makes sense.”
“There’s also the weed problem. Deep water suppresses weeds, but shallow spots lead to explosions of weed growth. You have that problem a lot, don’t you?”
Jacob nodded frantically.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“So, just by leveling the land, you get uniform rice quality and weed suppression. Plus, you’ll save a ton of water and increase your yield. You won’t have to adjust the water levels as often, which saves on labor costs, too.”
Jacob asked, looking like he’d just had an epiphany.
“Why didn’t I know this?”
“You weren’t interested. You just did things the way they’d always been done. If you go to the agricultural extension office and say you want to do laser leveling, they’ll probably ask how you came up with such a brilliant idea.”
“Ah... but how do I do it?”
“You’ll understand when you see it. The entire paddy is scanned with GPS or laser transmitters, and a scraper attached to a tractor automatically adjusts its height based on the laser signal. It cuts the high spots and fills the low ones, making the entire surface perfectly level.”
“Whoa, that’s amazing.”
“And one more thing. We’re going to build observation pipes for AWD (Alternate Wetting & Drying). I’ll draw up the blueprints for you. You can build them yourself or take the plans to a shop.”
“Huh? Observation pipes? What are those?”
“The laser leveling is specifically so we can use these AWD pipes. From now on, we’re going to manage the water levels in detail according to the growth stage.”
“Whoa-”
“The farming you’ve done until now relied on gut feeling and the assumption that there wouldn’t be a drought. From now on, we’re farming based on precise calculations and predictions. In short, this is the beginning of scientific farming.”
Jacob pounded on his bed in excitement, sending dust flying, and I had to wave my hands to clear the air.
“Stop, stop...”