White Death nf-4

by Clive Cussler

  "Let me play devil's advocate," Gamay said after some thought. "Suppose these so-called superfish did supplant the natural popula- tion. The commercial fishermen would in effect become the preda- tors who keep the population within reasonable limits. You would still have fish that could be harvested and sold at market. They would just be bigger and meatier."

  "And meaner," Paul noted. "There are too many unknowns to take the risk," Throckmorton

  said. "In Norway, hybrid salmon escaped into the sea and bred suc- cessfully with the native fish, but were less able to survive in the wild. So you could have a case where the superfish that replaces the wild stock dies out as a species, eliminating itself as well as the natural pop- ulation."

  A sardonic voice said, "My dear Throckmorton, are you trying to frighten these poor people with your dire warnings?"

  A man wearing a lab coat had quietly slipped into the lab and was observing them, a wide smile on his face. "Frederick!" Professor Throckmorton said, beaming. Turning to the Trouts, he said, "This is my esteemed colleague, Dr. Barker. Frederick, these are the Doc- tors Trout from NUMA." In an audible aside, Throckmorton said, They may call me Frankenstein, but this is Dr. Strangelove."

  Both men laughed over the shared joke. Barker came over and shook hands. He was in his early fifties, with an imposing physique, a shaved head and sunglasses that hid his eyes. His skin had a bleached-out look to it.

  "It's a great pleasure to meet someone from NUMA. Please don't let Throckmorton frighten you. You'll never eat a salmon amandine again after listening to him. What brings you to McGill?"

  "We were on vacation and heard about Dr. Throckmorton's work/' Gamay said. "As a marine biologist, I thought there might be something in it NUMA would be interested in."

  "A busman's holiday! Well, let me defend myself against this slan- der. I am a strong proponent oftransgenic fish, which makes me sus- pect in the eyes of my friend here."

  "The doctor is more than a proponent. He is affiliated with some of the biotech companies that are pushing to bring these creatures to market."

  "You make it sound like a dark conspiracy, Throckmorton. My friend forgets to tell you that I am working with the full complicity and financial support of the Canadian government."

  "Dr. Barker would like to create a designer salmon, so that peo- ple could have a different flavor every day of the week."

  "That's not a bad idea, Throckmorton. Do you mind if I bor- row it.

  "Only if you claim full responsibility for creating such a monster."

  "The professor worries too much." He gestured toward the fish tank. "That fine fellow is proof there is no need to create a transgenic fish of monstrous size. And as he said, biotech fish are less able to sur- vive in the wild. It's easy enough to sterilize the fish so they won't replicate themselves."

  "Yes, but sterilization techniques are less than one hundred per- cent reliable. You might not be so casual after you hear the news that the Trouts have brought me."

  Throckmorton asked the Trouts to tell their story and run the video again. When they were finished, he said, "What do you make of it, Frederick?"

  Barker shook his head. "I'm afraid I share some blame. I got the message from Neal when he called. But I never called him back."

  "And what do you think?"

  Barker's smile had disappeared. "I would say that it was impossi- ble, if it had not been witnessed by two qualified observers and video- taped. This has all the earmarks of a transgenic experiment gone wrong."

  "Who would be so irresponsible as to let a fish like this escape into the wild? Apparently, there are others, if we are to believe the fish- ermen. We must get someone in the field immediately."

  "I agree wholeheartedly. It's evident that this white devilfish is al- ready competing with the wild species for food. Whether it can pass along its genes is another question."

  "That's what has bothered me all along about this whole issue, its unpredictability," Throckmorton said.

  Barker glanced at his watch. "What is not unpredictable is my next class, which meets in a few minutes." He bowed slightly and shook hands with Paul and Gamay. "I'm sorry that I have to run. A pleasure meeting you."

  "Your colleague is fascinating," Gamay said. "He looks more like a professional wrestler than a geneticist."

  "Oh yes, Frederick is one of a kind. The female students love him.

  He rides a motorcycle around the city, which they think is very cool."

  "Is there something wrong with his eyes?"

  "You noticed the sunglasses, of course. Frederick tends toward al- binism. As you can see from his lack of complexion, he avoids the sun, and his eyes are very sensitive to light. His handicap hasn't hindered his accomplishments, though. Everything I said about his brilliance is true, though, unlike me, he is putting his expertise to work in the private sector. He'll probably become a millionaire. Anyway, we must both thank you for alerting us. I'll start immediately to put a field team together/'

  "We've taken enough of your time/' Gamay said. "Not at all. It's been a treat to talk to you. I hope we'll meet again." Throckmorton asked if he could copy the video. Minutes later Paul and Gamay were in a cab headed down the hill to the hotel. "Interesting afternoon/' Paul said.

  "More so than you think. While Throckmorton and I were copy- ing the tape, I asked him who Barker's employers were. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have another lead to chase down. He said the com- pany was named Aurora."

  "Pretty name," Paul said with a yawn. "What did he say about it?" Gamay smiled mysteriously. "He said Aurora is a subsidiary of a larger company."

  Paul blinked. "Don't tell me-" She nodded. "Oceanus."

  He thought about it for a moment, then said, "I tried to look at this as if I were creating a computer graphic, but the problem is more like a kid's picture puzzle. Barker is one dot, the guys who tried to drive us off the road are another dot. If we connect the two, we can start to sketch out a picture. So our course of action is very clear." "And what might that be?" Gamay said with skepticism. Paul gave her a lopsided grin. "We have to come up with more dots."

  23

  THE LOCATION RYAN had suggested for a rendezvous was

  only a few minutes from NUMA headquarters. Austin drove along the George Washington Parkway to a sign that said THEODORE ROOSEVELT ISLAND. He parked his car, walked over the footbridge that spanned a narrow waterway called Little River and followed a path to the Roosevelt Memorial, a wide plaza edged by low benches. Ryan was standing with his back to the bronze statue of the president, apparently keeping an eye out for Austin.

  Ryan waved him over. "Thanks for coming, Kurt." Ryan turned and gazed up at the statue. TR stood with legs wide apart, fist raised high in the air. "01' Teddy up there got me into this crazy business. He put millions of acres under federal protection, saved endangered birds from the plume hunters and made the Grand Canyon a national park. He wasn't afraid to push the law to its lim- its when he thought he was acting in the public good. Whenever I have doubts about what I'm doing, I think of this guy staring down the fat cats."

  Austin couldn't help feeling that Ryan was posing for a photo op. "It's hard to believe you have doubts about anything, Marcus."

  "Oh I do, believe me. Especially when I think of the task I've carved out for myself: Protecting the world's oceans and the critters that live in them."

  "If I recall my mythology, the sea-god position has been filled for the last few thousand years."

  Ryan smirked like a guilty child. "Yeah, I guess I do sound god- like at times. But mythology also tells us that gods commonly appoint themselves to their positions."

  "I'll remember that if I ever lose my job at NUMA. Therri said you wanted to talk to me about something important."

  "Yes," Ryan said, looking past Austin's shoulder. "There she is now, as a matter of fact."

  Therri was walking across the plaza with a young man Austin guessed to be in his early twenties. He had reddish-brown skin, a broad face and high cheekbo
nes.

  "Good to see you again, Kurt," Therri said, extending her hand. Her manner was businesslike in front of the other men, but her eyes told Austin she hadn't forgotten the goodnight kiss in Copenhagen; or at least that's what he hoped they said. "This is Ben Nighthawk. Ben is a research assistant in our office."

  Ryan suggested that they move off to the side of the memorial. When he was sure they could talk out of the earshot of any wander- ing tourists, he wasted no time. "Ben has uncovered some important information on Oceanus," he said.

  With a nod from Ryan, the young Indian began to tell his story.

  "I come from a tiny village in northern Canada. It's pretty remote, on a big lake, and usually it's pretty quiet up there. A few months ago, my mother wrote me a letter saying someone had bought a huge tract of land across the lake from the village. Big corporation, she thought. I hope to work against overdevelopment of the Canadian wilds when I get out of college, so I got really interested when she said they were building night and day on the lake. Helicopters and float- planes were coming in at all hours. I asked my mother to keep me up to date, and the last time I heard from her was more than two weeks ago. She was really worried." "About what?" Austin said.

  "She didn't say, only that it had something to do with the stuff going on across the lake. So I got worried and went home to take a look-and my family was gone."

  "You're saying they disappeared?" Austin said. Nighthawk nodded. "Everyone in the village had vanished." "Canada's a big place, Ben. Where was your village located?" Nighthawk glanced at Ryan. "In good time, Kurt," Ryan said.

  "Tell Mr. Austin what happened next, Ben."

  "I went looking for my family," Nighthawk continued. "I found them being kept prisoner on the other side of the lake. Guys with guns were forcing the men from my village to work, clearing land around a big building."

  "Do you know who they were?"

  "I never saw them before. They were dressed in black uniforms." He looked at Ryan for encouragement, then went on. "It's crazy, but when we got there-"

  "We?" Ryan said, "Josh Green, my next in command, went along with

  Ben. Don't be afraid to tell Mr. Austin everything you saw, no mat- ter how wild it seems."

  Nighthawk shrugged. "Okay, then. When we first got there, we didn't see anything but forest, except for where they were clearing. Then this huge building suddenly appeared out of nowhere." He paused, waiting for Austin to reply with disbelieving laughter.

  Austin kept his blue-green eyes leveled. "Go on," he said, his face impassive.

  "That's it. Instead of trees, we were looking at a giant dome. Josh and I thought it looked like an Eskimo igloo, only hundreds of times bigger. While we were watching, the top of the thing opened like this." He cupped his hands to form an open clamshell. "Turned out it was a hangar for a blimp."

  Austin said, "Something like the Goodyear blimp?" Nighthawk screwed up his mouth in thought. "Naw. Bigger and longer. More like a rocket ship. It even had a name on the fin. Niet- zsche. )

  "Like the German philosopher?"

  "I guess so," Ben said. "We saw the thing land in the hangar, and the roof closed again, and then a bunch of guys came out the front door. My cousin was in a work gang, and he tried to run for it, and one of those bastards killed him." Nighthawk's voice became choked with emotion.

  Ryan put his hand on Nighthawk's shoulder. "That's enough for now, Ben."

  Austin said, "I'd like to help. But I'm going to need more details."

  Ryan said, "We'll be glad to fill you in, but the information comes with a price."

  Austin raised an eyebrow. "I'm a little short of change today, Marcus."

  "We're not interested in money. We want SOS and NUMA to work together to bring Oceanus down. We share the information. You include us in any mission."

  Austin showed his teeth in a wide grin. "You'd be better off call- ing in the marines, Ryan. NUMA is a scientific organization dedi- cated to gathering knowledge. It's not a military organization."

  "C'mon, Kurt, you're being disingenuous," Ryan said, with a knowing smile. "We researched your job at NUMA. This Special As- signments Team you run has come up against some pretty hard cases. You didn't stop the bad guys by whacking them over the head with a scientific treatise."

  "You flatter me, Marcus. I don't have the power to authorize a joint mission. I'd have to run it by higher-ups."

  Ryan took the answer as a qualified yes. "I new you'd come around," he said triumphantly. "Thank you so much."

  "Save your thanks. I have no intention of going to the head hon- chos."

  "Why not?" "NUMA would be putting its reputation on the line if it worked with a fringe organization like SOS. On the other hand, you'd gain public support for the Sentinels by putting them under NUMA's um- brella of legitimacy. Sorry. It's a one-sided deal."

  Ryan brushed back his hair. "We haven't told you everything, Kurt. I have a personal stake in this, as well. It wasn't just Ben's cousin-Josh Green was killed."

  "It was my fault," Ben said. "I ran into the open, and he tried to stop me. They shot him."

  "You did what anyone would have done in your place," Ryan said.

  Josh was a brave man." "You're talking about two murders now," Austin said. "Have you reported them to the police?"

  "No. We want to deal with this ourselves. And there's something olse that may persuade you to change your mind. We tracked down Ae new owner of the land around Ben's lake. It was a real estate straw corporation… set up by Oceanus."

  "You're sure of that?" "Positive. Are you with us now?"

  Austin shook his head. "Before you buckle on your six-shooters and ride off, let me remind you what you're up against. Oceanus has money, and worldwide connections, and as you've seen, they don't hesitate to commit cold-blooded murder. They'd swat you and any- one you brought in from SOS like a fly. I'm sorry about Ben's cousin and your friend getting killed, but it only proves what I've been say- ing. You'll be putting your people in similar danger." He glanced pointedly at Therri.

  "They're willing to take any risk for the environment," Ryan said. "Apparently, NUMA doesn't give a damn about it."

  "Hold on, Marcus," Therri said. She had seen Austin's jaw harden. "Kurt has a point. Maybe we could offer a compromise. SOS could work behind the scenes with NUMA."

  "Spoken like a true lawyer," Austin said.

  Therri hadn't expected Austin's quick rebuff. "What's that sup- posed to mean?" she said, a hint of coldness creeping into her voice.

  "I think this is less about the whales and the walruses and dead friends, and more about your friend's ego." He turned back to Ryan. "You're still ticked off about the loss of the Sea Sentinel. She was your pride and joy. You were going to play the martyr in front of the cable news cameras, but the Danes beat you to the punch when they dropped the charges and quietly kicked you out of their country."

  "That's not true," Therri said. "Marcus is-"

  Ryan silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Don't waste your breath. It's apparent that Kurt is a fair-weather friend."

  "Better than no friend at all," Austin said. He pointed toward the statue of Roosevelt. "Maybe you should go back and read that guy s resume again. He didn't ask others to stick their necks out. Sorry to hear about your cousin, Ben, and about Josh Green. Nice to see you again, Therri."

  Austin had had his fill ofRyan's self-aggrandizement. He'd been hopeful when he heard Nighthawk's story, but angry at Ryan for slamming the door on a possible lead. He was striding down the path when he heard footsteps from behind. Therri had followed him from the memorial. She caught up with him and grabbed him lightly by the arm. "Kurt, please reconsider. Marcus really needs your help."

  "I can see that. But I can't agree to his conditions."

  "We can work something out," she pleaded.

  "If you and Ben want help from NUMA, you'll have to cut loose from Ryan."

  "I can't do that," she said, bringing the power other lovely eyes to bear.

  "
I think you can," Austin said, boring back with his own, equally intense gaze.

  "Damnit, Austin," she said with exasperation, "you're one stub- born bastard."

  Austin chuckled. "Does that mean you won't go out to dinner with me?"

  Therri's face darkened with anger, and she spun on her heel and strode off along the path. Austin watched her until she disappeared around a curve. He shook his head. The sacrifices I make for NUMA, he thought. He started off toward the parking lot, only to stop short a minute later when a figure popped out of the woods. It was Ben Nighthawk.

  "I made an excuse to get away," Nighthawk said breathlessly. "I told Marcus I had to use the rest room. I had to talk to you. I don't blame you for not wanting to hook up with SOS. Marcus has let all Ac publicity go to his head. He thinks he's Wyatt Earp. But I saw those guys kill my cousin and Josh. I tried to tell him what he's up against, but he won't listen. If SOS goes in, my family is dead meat." "Tell me where they are and I'll do what I can." "It's tough to explain. I'll have to draw you a map. Oh, hell-" Ryan was striding up the path toward them, an angry expression on his handsome face. "Call me," Austin said.

  Ben nodded and walked back to meet Ryan. They became en- gaged in what looked like a heated discussion. Then Ryan put his arm around Ben and guided him back to the memorial. He turned back once, to glare at Austin, who shrugged off the evil eye and headed back to his car.

  Twenty minutes later, Austin strolled into the Air and Space Museum on Independence Avenue. He took the elevator to the third floor, and was headed toward the library, when he encountered a middle-aged man in a wrinkled tan suit who had stepped out of a side room.

  "Kurt Austin, as I live and breathe!" the man said.

  "I wondered if I'd bump into you, Mac."

  "Always a good chance of that around here. I practically live within these walls. How's the pride ofNUMA these days?"