The Swarm

by Frank Schätzing

  Why didn't Johanson tell anyone of his theory? He'd almost mentioned it when he was in his suite with Weaver, straight after the presentation, but had lapsed into allusions.

  Li made a series of phone calls, spoke to Peak in New York, then looked at her watch. It was time for Vanderbilt's report. She left her suite and went along the corridor to a secure room on the southern side of the Chateau. It was the equivalent of the War Room in the White House, and was tap-proof, like the conference room. Vanderbilt and two of his team were waiting for her. The CIA chief had only just returned from Nanaimo by helicopter, and was even more dishevelled than usual.

  'Can we get Washington on the line?' she asked, without bothering to say hello.

  'Well, we could,' said Vanderbilt, 'but it wouldn't do much good-'

  'Cut to the chase, Jack.'

  'If you want to speak to the President, there's no point in calling Washington. He's not there.'

  NANAIMO, Vancouver Island

  As she was leaving the elevator with Johanson, Oliviera ran into Fenwick and Anawak in the foyer. 'Where've you been?' she asked, surprised.

  'For a stroll.' Anawak beamed at her. 'Been having fun in the lab?'

  'Yeah, right.' Oliviera grimaced. 'It looks as though Europe's problems are washing in our direction. The jelly in the crabs was an old friend of ours. But that's not all they were carrying. Roche has isolated a biological agent.'

  'Pfiesteria?' asked Anawak.

  'Not far off,' said Johanson. 'It's a mutation of a mutation, as it were. The new strain is far more toxic than the European variety.'

  'We had to sacrifice a few mice,' said Oliviera. 'We shut them in with a dead crab and they died within minutes.'

  Fenwick took an involuntary step back. 'Is the toxin contagious?'

  'Oh, no. Feel free to kiss me, if you like. The poison they produce can't be passed between humans. We're not dealing with a virus – it's essentially a bacteriological invasion. The trouble is, the whole thing spirals out of control once the Pfiesteria get into the water. They keep spreading exponentially, long after the crabs have given up the ghost. All but one was dead on arrival, and now the last one's gone too.'

  'Kamikaze crabs,' Anawak muttered.

  'Their job is to get the bacteria to land, just as the worms' mission was to import it into the ice,' said Johanson. 'After that, they perish. Jellyfish, mussels, even the jelly – none of these organisms live long, but they all fulfill their function.'

  'Harming us at all cost.'

  'Absolutely. Even the whales have become suicidal,' said Fenwick. 'Aggressive behaviour is normally part of a survival strategy, like flight, but there's no evidence of it here.'

  Johanson smiled. His dark eyes flashed. 'I'm not so sure about that. I'd say there's a clear survival strategy at the heart of all this.'

  Fenwick stared at him. 'You're starting to sound like Vanderbilt.'

  'Actually, no. Vanderbilt's right in some respects, but fundamentally I don't agree with him.' Johanson paused. 'But before too long, he'll be sounding like me.'

  LI

  'What's that supposed to mean?' demanded Li, as she sat down. 'If the President's not in Washington, where is he?'

  'He's heading for Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska,' said Vanderbilt. 'Swarms of crabs have shown up in Chesapeake Bay and along the Potomac river. They seem to be marching up the estuary. We've also had reported sightings near Alexandria and just south of Arlington, but we're awaiting confirmation.'

  'Who decided on Offutt?'

  Vanderbilt shrugged. 'The White House chief of staff is afraid that Washington's about to turn into another New York,' he said. 'But you know the President. He fought against it tooth and nail. He was all for confronting the crabs and declaring war on the bastards in person. But in the end he agreed to a break in the country.'

  Li thought for a moment. Offutt was the home of the United States Strategic Command, the control centre for America's nuclear weapons. The base was the ideal place to protect the President. It was situated at the heart of the country, out of reach of any danger emerging from the sea. From there the President could communicate with the National Security Council over a secure satellite link and exercise the full powers of government.

  'We can't afford this kind of sloppiness,' she said vehemently. 'For future reference, Jack, I expect to be informed of this kind of thing straight away. If anything so much as sticks its head out of the water anywhere in the world, I want to know.'

  I'll see what I can do,' said Vanderbilt. 'Maybe we can set up some talks with a few local dolphins and-'

  'What's more, I certainly want to be informed if anyone sends the President anywhere else.'

  Vanderbilt smiled jovially. 'If I could make a suggestion-'

  Li cut him off: 'And I expect you to find out exactly what's happening in Washington. We need full information within the next two hours. If the reports turn out to be true, we'll evacuate the affected areas and turn Washington into an exclusion zone, like New York.'

  'Funny you should mention it,' Vanderbilt said equably, 'but I was just going to say the same thing.'

  'Good. What else have you got for me?'

  'Shit and more shit,' he said.

  'I'm used to that.'

  'That's why I've been scraping around for all the bad news I can find. I'd hate for you to have withdrawal symptoms. OK, let's start with Georges Bank. NOAA was planning to send down two dive robots to scoop up some worms for research purposes. That, um, went fine.'

  Li waited for him to continue.

  'Like I said, they collected their sample,' Vanderbilt was enjoying every word, 'but they didn't get it back on board. The worms were already in the bag, so to speak – then something cut the cables. We lost both robots. Same story in Japan. A manned submersible on a worm-collecting mission went missing somewhere between Honshu and Hokkaido and according to the Japanese, the worms are spreading. I think we can safely say that things are stepping up a gear. At first, only divers were being attacked, but now it's subs, underwater probes and robots.'

  'Any signs of suspicious activity?'

  'Nothing conclusive – no enemy probes or submersibles around at the time. But NOAA's vessel picked up a sheet of something moving in the water at a depth of seven hundred metres. It extended over several kilometres. Their chief scientist is ninety per cent sure that it was a plankton shoal, but he can't swear to it.'

  Li thought of Johanson. She almost regretted that he wasn't there to listen.

  'Next up, deep-sea cables. They're still being destroyed. Of the major transatlantic links, ANTAT-3 and a number of the TAT cables have now gone down. Apparently we've also lost PACRIM WEST in the Pacific, one of our main links to Australia. In addition to that, the past two days have seen a proliferation of shipping accidents, all taking place in the busiest shipping lanes. There are two hundred main chokepoints in the world, and roughly half have been affected, in particular the Strait of Gibraltar, the Strait of Malacca and the English Channel. There was trouble in the Panama Canal too and… well, we probably shouldn't make too much of it, but there's news of a pile-up in the Strait of Hormuz and in the Khalij as-Suways, which is, um, in…'

  Vanderbilt didn't seem as cynical or arrogant as usual, and now Li knew why. 'I know where Khalij as-Suways is,' she said. 'You mean the Gulf of Suez. It runs between the Red Sea and the Suez Canal. Which means two major Arab shipping hubs have been hit.'

  'Bingo, baby. There were navigation problems. A new variety, incidentally. It's difficult to reconstruct exactly what happened, but the crash in the Strait of Hormuz involved seven vessels. At least two had no idea where they were going. The speed log and depth sounders had clearly screwed up.'

  Four pieces of technology were essential for the safety of any ship: radar, anemometer, depth sounders and speed log. Radar scanning and wind speed measurement took place above the waterline, but the depth sounders opened out on to the keel, as did the speed log, a pitot tube with an integrated sensor that
measured the speed of the water. It was basically the ship's speedometer. While the log provided the ship's radar system with data on the course and speed of the vessel, the radar calculated the risk of colliding with other objects and came up with alternative routes. Generally speaking, the crew blindly accepted the instruments' readings – blindly, since 70 per cent of the time it was either dark, foggy or choppy, so there wasn't any view.

  'According to the reports, one craft had marine life clinging to its speed log,' said Vanderbilt. 'As far as the log was concerned, the vessel was at a standstill, so the radar failed to register the danger of collision, even though it was surrounded by ships. In the case of the other vessel, the depth sounder started claiming that the depth was diminishing. The water was plenty deep enough, but the crew were convinced they were about to run aground so they began to manoeuvre. Both ships smashed into other vessels, and because it was dark, a few more joined in. Similar antics have been going on all over the world. We've even heard claims that whales were swimming beneath the boats in the run-up to the crashes.'

  'Well, that makes sense,' Li said thoughtfully. 'If a large object were to block the depth sounder for a significant amount of time, it could easily be mistaken for firm ground.'

  'On top of all that, we're also seeing more infested rudders and thrusters. Sea-chests are still getting clogged – increasingly effectively. We've just had news of an iron-ore freighter sinking off the coast of India – apparently a case of accelerated corrosion, brought on by an infestation that had built up over weeks. The sea was perfectly calm, but its forehold just caved in. It sank within minutes. And so it goes on. There's no sign of a let-up. In fact, it's getting worse. And then you've got the toxic plague.'

  Li pressed the tips of her fingers together, turning it all over in her mind.

  It was ridiculous. But so were ships. Peak was absolutely right. They were outdated steel coffers that used high-tech navigation while slurping cooling water through a hole in the keel. And now crabs were invading twenty-first-century cities, getting mangled by cars and dumping tonnes of toxic algae into the sewers. They'd already had to barricade one city, and it wouldn't be long before they had to barricade the next. Even the President had been forced to flee inland.

  'We need some more of those worms,' said Li. 'And we have to do something about the algae.'

  'I couldn't agree more.' Vanderbilt did his best to sound obsequious.

  His men were sitting on either side of him, faces expressionless, eyes fixed on Li. Strictly speaking, it was Vanderbilt's job to come up with a suggestion, but he was no fonder of Li than she was of him. He wasn't about to help her.

  But Li didn't need Vanderbilt to come to a decision. 'First,' she said, 'as soon as we know if those reports are true, we're going to evacuate Washington. Second, I want tankers filled with drinking water to be sent to the affected areas. Supplies will be strictly rationed. We'll drain the pipes and burn those bugs with chemicals.'

  Vanderbilt laughed. His men started grinning. 'Drain the pipes? Stop New York's drinking water?'

  'Yes.'

  'Great idea. Once we've killed the New Yorkers with chemicals, we can put the city up for rent. Maybe the Chinese would be interested? I heard they might be running out of space.'

  'I don't care how you do it, Jack – I'll leave that up to you. I'm going to ask the President to call a plenary meeting of the Security Council so we can declare a state of emergency.'

  'Of course!'

  'We're going to close down the coastline. I want to see drones patrolling our shores, and troops in protective clothing on stand-by with flamethrowers. From now on, anything that tries to crawl out of the sea is going to get barbecued.' She stood up. 'As for the whales, it's about time we stopped acting like frightened kids. I want our vessels to be able to sail when and where they like – and that means every single boat, without exception. Let's see how they respond to psychological warfare.'

  'What are you going to do to them, Jude? Give them a good talking-to?'

  'No.' Li gave a thin smile. 'I'm going to hunt them down. Those whales and their masters need to be taught a lesson. To hell with animal conservation. From now on, they're going to get shot.'

  'You want to take on the IWC?'

  'No. We're going to blast them with sonar – and keep blasting them until they leave us in peace.'

  NEW YORK, USA

  Right in front of him, a man collapsed and died. Peak was sweating beneath his heavy protective suit. Breathing through an oxygen mask, he looked out through bulletproof goggles on a city that in the course of one night, had been turned into hell.

  The sergeant sitting beside him steered the jeep slowly along First Avenue. Entire blocks of the East Village seemed deserted. Every now and then they'd spot a group of people being herded together by the military. The main problem was that no one could be allowed to leave the city until they knew for certain that the illness couldn't be spread. It didn't seem contagious. In fact, the scenes around them reminded Peak of a large-scale poison-gas attack. But still he felt doubtful. Many of the victims had coin-sized sores on their bodies. If New York was in the grip of killer algae, they weren't just releasing clouds of airborne toxin: they were clinging to the skin of their victims too. Theoretically, that meant they were present in bodily fluids. Peak was no biologist, but he couldn't help wondering what would happen if a diseased individual were to kiss a healthy one and pass on their saliva. The algae could survive in water, were comfortable in a wide range of temperatures, and multiplied, as far as he could tell, at an incredible speed.

  The aim was to quarantine New York and Long Island in such a way that the diseased and the healthy would all be treated fairly. They were working flat out to achieve that, and at first the mood had been optimistic. New York seemed prepared. After the first attack on the World Trade Center in 1993, the mayor at the time had created the Office of Emergency Management, OEM, to tackle any future crisis. At the end of the nineties, it had carried out the biggest emergency drill in the city's history by simulating a chemical-weapons attack, calling on over six hundred police, fire-fighters and FBI agents to 'save' New York. The drill had gone without a hitch, and the Senate had authorised generous additional funding. Suddenly the OEM had found itself the recipient of fifteen million dollars to spend on a bombproof armoured command centre with its own air supply, big enough to house forty highly qualified workers, who were waiting in anticipation of Doomsday. It was built on the twenty-third storey of the World Trade Center shortly before 11 September 2001. Now, the OEM was still rebuilding itself, and it certainly wasn't capable of dealing with the crisis. People were falling ill and dying too fast for anyone to help.

  The jeep swerved to avoid dead bodies and approached the junction with 14th Street. Cars sped by, honking frantically. People were trying to leave the city, but they wouldn't get far: the roads were closed. So far the army had only brought Brooklyn and parts of Manhattan under any kind of control, but at least no one was able to leave Greater New York without authorisation.

  They drove on, passing military blockades on either side. Hundreds of soldiers were sweeping the city like alien invaders, faceless behind their gas-masks, lumbering and misshapen in their bright-yellow NBC suits. The OEM team was out in force as well. Across the city, bodies were being loaded on to stretchers and taken away in military jeeps or ambulances. Crashed and abandoned vehicles blocked the roads, cutting off access to parts of the city. The perpetual roar of helicopters echoed through the canyons of the streets.

  Peak's driver trundled a few hundred metres along the sidewalk and stopped outside Bellevue Hospital Center on the hanks of the East River, where the provisional command centre was housed. Peak hurried inside. The foyer was crowded with people. Panic-stricken eyes turned towards him, and he quickened his pace. Photographs of missing people were thrust in his direction, and shouts and cries besieged him. Flanked by two soldiers, he crossed into the secure area and marched towards the hospital's IT centre. A tap-
proof satellite link connected him to Chateau Whistler. After a few minutes, he had Li on the line.

  'We need an antitoxin, and we need it now.'

  'Nanaimo is on the case.'

  'We can't wait that long. New York is out of our control. I've seen the plans for the drains, and you can forget about pumping the city dry. You may as well talk about draining the Potomac.'

  'Do you have sufficient medical supplies?'

  'We can't treat anyone! We don't know how to help them. All we can do is give them immuno-modulating medication and pray for the algae to die.'

  'Listen, Sal,' said Li, 'we're not going to let this beat us. We're almost a hundred per cent certain that the toxins can't be transmitted from person to person. There's almost no risk of contagion from the bodies. We've got no choice but to wipe the bugs out of the system. We'll douse them in chemicals, burn them, plead with them – whatever it takes.'

  'Well, go ahead,' said Peak, 'but it won't do any good. OK, the wind will probably blow away the toxic cloud, but as for the algae… Don't you realise that every single person in this city will have helped themselves to water? They'll have showered, done the dishes, had a drink, topped up the goldfish bowl and God knows what else. People have been washing their cars. The fire service has been putting out fires. This whole city is covered with algae. They're contaminating the buildings, swarming through the air vents and the air-conditioning. Even if we've seen the end of the crabs, I don't know how we could ever stop the algae reproducing.' He struggled for breath. 'I mean, Christ, Jude, there are six thousand hospitals in America, and less than a quarter are prepared for a crisis like this. How are we ever going to isolate so many people and get them treated before it's too late? The Bellevue can't cope, and it's huge.'

  Li was silent for moment. Then she said, 'OK. You know what you have to do. Turn Greater New York into a prison. Don't let anyone in or out.'