by Randy Dutton
“Leakage?” Sam asked.
“In the manner of higher evaporation and spills. By incorporating a carbon membrane that allows the fuel to separate out, Snath made the continuous production technology so easy to use, that any villager can set up a biorefinery and not worry about killing the microbes. Apparently, Snath thought they could control the biorefinery equipment production and get royalties on the equipment and microbes.
“But someone figured out how to replicate the recovery membrane that separated 95 percent of the desired fuel from the emulsion of microbes, water, and feedstock. And someone posted the secrets on the Internet. Voilá. Now anyone can make fuel, and poof went one of Snath’s trillion-dollar monopolies.
“So now villagers can strip the forests bare to make fuel without considering sustainability. Eventually, their soil will be depleted, as the top soil is carried away by wind and rain. The windborne dust settling in the oceans feeds phytoplankton and increases CO2 capture. This is a consequence of relying on biofuels in place of fossil fuels. Eventually, the carbon all goes into the ocean and the land’s depleted.”
“What about their plankton?”
Pete leaned forward. “The phytoplankton they previously announced hasn’t been authorized for release yet. Because the oceans absorb most of the CO2, it’s their phytoplankton I most worry about. Fortunately, a single release would take a decade to spread around the oceans, and by that time it might adapt differently than its genetic programming might have intended.
“Only a global release likely would cause devastation. That would take an extensive effort, which I doubt the world would tolerate. The ocean’s a big soup pot with different temperatures, gradients, salinities, nutrient levels, solar exposure, and regionally different competitive and predatorial sea life. I can’t see a single species being designed to outcompete in every environment…That’s the logical answer.”
“What’s the illogical answer?” Art asked.
“Conspiracy theory,” Pete shrugged. “The world isn’t acting rationally, or at least some people aren’t as we define the term. Some power brokers are trying to control the world. We know that. To us that’s evil, but rational. Mankind thrives on control. But to attain that, they’ve funded thousands of anarchist groups, hacker groups, environmental extremists, and even drug cartels. They do this expecting to stay in control.”
Pete paused, and said in a lower, more serious voice, “I don’t believe these groups are controllable in the long run. Some are evil and irrational, some are well-meaning but naive. Some want to destroy humanity either through their religious beliefs in Gaia, or out of self-loathing, or a desire for chaos, or perhaps they just aren’t rooted in reality. To some this might be a Matrix game where people are a disease and the elite are the cure.”
“This may all be a videogame to them?” Ed asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” Pete answered. “But their actions have serious consequences to the innocent who don’t know they’re players in the game.”
“And the bacterium?” Ed asked.
“I haven’t heard it’s been released yet. Likely that’ll happen in a month or so.” Pete paused. “I’ll stay on top of this and report back at the Dallas meeting when I have something.”
They continued, focusing on contingency planning.
Chapter 47
July 10, 1000 hours
Snath Genetics. South San Francisco
Sven looked up from the San Francisco Bay testing data. “Eric, these results are amazing!” He looked up to see the operations manager sharing the feeling of success. “We’re going to be heroes!”
“Eco-heroes!” the shorter man exclaimed. “Yes, the initial 320 liters spread from one acre three days ago to over 1,000 acres. And the biolife concentrations are about five times higher and three times as deep at the initial spray site than when we started the test.”
“And the dissolved CO2 levels?” Sven scanned the report.
“Concentrations are dropping…that means success!” Eric grinned. “We’re doing sediment samples tomorrow.”
“Keep monitoring. I want to know if the native zooplankton adapts and starts consuming the phytoplankton, and if the detritus is releasing the nutrients as expected.... Oh and Eric, youyou’re your wife better start packing.”
“You got it, Boss!” Eric was smilingly broadly.
“We may have a problem!” Eric said two days later in a private meeting with Sven. He spread out nine photos. “These aerial shots were taken above South San Francisco Bay and along the California Current. As you can see, we’ve got a green bloom in the Bay of about 10,000 acres, and a long green streak in the Current about 322 klicks long. I’m concerned that biologists are noticing the blooms and may trace it back to us.”
“It’ll take them time to do the DNA analysis and then start asking questions.” Sven paused in thought for a moment, then more seriously remarked, “Eric, if we can make it past July 31th, it won’t matter what happens next. But just in case we get raided, be ready to dump the full load of every container immediately, then disable our remote control workstation so they can’t turn it off.”
“Will do,” Eric nodded.
“Keep shipping the containers on schedule.”
“So far, we are on track.” Eric handed Sven the shipping logs. “The shipping agent did a masterful job.”
“She is good, isn’t she?”
Eric grinned, knowing that Sven and Tanya had been spending time together after work. “We shipped 5 yesterday and are filling 10 more today. Because of the transit time these are going to the farthest destinations – the Indian Ocean’s Monsoon, Somali, and South Equatorial gyres, and to the Antarctic Circumpolar. The farthest point is about 10,000 nautical miles. The freighter speeds vary, but generally average about 22 knots. So, 19 days is the maximum time. That puts it on schedule for July 31st.”
“How about the analysis?”
“We’ve analyzed the detritus, and it’s mostly carbon. The macronutrients are separating out and re-dissolving into the water, often early in the euphotic zone.”
“Excellent.” Sven snapped shut the report. “Then it’s available to the progeny.”
Chapter 48
July 14, 1000 hours
Anna’s Villa, Côte d'Azur, France
Clickety-click-click... clickety-click-click, sounded the rare Central American poison arrow dart frog ringtone. Anna’s expression turned sour upon hearing it, and her voice emoted even less pleasure. “Yes, Jared?”
“Anna, you’ve been quiet. Swanson wants to know if everything’s okay.”
“Of course,” she said with feigned cheerfulness. Internally, she was annoyed. “Everything’s on track. Alexis should have received my latest status report yesterday. He’s making a fortune. Is there something specific you need?”
“Do you know where Marv is? He vanished a week ago, one of the ship’s crew said he was seen talking to you just before he grabbed his possessions. Nobody’s seen him since. What did you say to him?”
“I asked him to help carry some bags to my car.”
“Why?”
“Because salt air is not good for storing high fashion.” Testily she added, “But you wouldn’t know that, now would you Jared?”
“Don’t mess with me, missy. This is serious. Marv likes you. What did he say?”
“He said a friend had offered him a job that was hard to turn down.”
“What name did he give?”
“Marv didn’t. I just said, ‘Sounds great.’”
Jared’s voice hardened. “I want more detail.”
“Then Jared, you’ll have to find it out from Marv, or one of his friends. I don’t know,” she lied again.
“I don’t trust you,” he growled.
“Well, Jared, I don’t trust you either, so it’s a stalemate,” she retorted angrily. “Does Swanson know how uncouth you are?”
“Listen, miss. You may think you have Swanson wrapped around your finger, but he’ll thro
w you overboard the moment I find out whatever games you’re playing, run counter to his. And I look forward to that day. I know more about you than he does, and I know just how conniving you are.”
“Jared, I’ve helped Swanson in a hundred different ways. Do you really think he’s going to cast all that aside based on your paranoia?”
“It’s intuition. When I have the facts, he’ll have the facts.”
“Was there anything else you want to share with me, Jared? If not, goodbye!” She hung up. He’s so annoying. I really hope he never finds Marv, because if he does, I’m screwed.
Chapter 49
July 15, 1200 hours
Snath Genetics, South San Francisco
Eric walked into Sven’s sparse office carrying a file folder. With a spring in his step, he said, “Sven, we’ve managed to ship out 20 more containers the last three days, for a total of 36 loads.” His excitement was palpable.
Sven glanced from the box of files he was packing. His mouth twisted. “Remind me where these were sent.”
“Most are going to the Black Sea, the Persian Gulf, the Mediterranean, and the Atlantic. Of the North Atlantic gyres, we’ll hit the Gulf Stream, the Azores, the North Atlantic, and the North Equatorial, plus those in the South Atlantic.”
“Excellent.” Sven allowed a smile of satisfaction. “Now, what’re the results of the San Francisco Bay test?”
“It shows our plankton nearly everywhere, including part of the Sacramento River delta – but only when the saltwater tidal flow intrudes. The Bay’s much greener now. Get this...the astronauts on the International Space Station are starting to comment on the color. They said it looks like Saint Patrick’s Day on the Chicago River, when the city dyes it green. So far, the California Current bloom has lengthened to 564 klicks and is widening as it travels.” Eric handed a satellite photo to his boss. “Your idea’s working,” he said proudly.
Sven examined it. “How about the CO2 levels?”
“The surface levels are continuing to decline, and the pH is increasing.”
“That’ll be good for the coral reefs,” Sven furrowed his brows.
“What’s wrong?” Eric evaluated Sven’s anxious expression.
“Now you’ve got me wondering if the test proximity to us was a mistake.” Sven tapped the image. “Our earlier announcement of a super phytoplankton likely will lead them to us first. We need to plan our response. Eric, I want you to give the loading and shipping crew three weeks paid vacation as soon as the last load goes out.”
“Okay.... Why?”
“I don’t want them accessible to the press or the feds.”
“Good idea. Once the tanks start releasing, it’ll be too late.”
“And have all the phytoplankton production cylinders purged and sanitized. This’ll slow down the feds if they try to find matching DNA samples.”
“Will do.”
“By the way, how about the clams?” Sven asked. “That’s not something we tested.”
“The local officials have declared shellfish aren’t to be eaten until they’re tested. They don’t know what to make of the bloom.”
“Keep on it. I want to be prepared with a PR response if we get caught.”
“Will do, Boss!”
“One more thing, Eric. I got a call from a DoSA contact about the moss particles.”
Eric smirked. “You and I knew this day would come.”
“He warned me that their inspectors are getting nervous about its spread.”
“How far have they measured it?”
“Some fragments have drifted over 200 kilometers,” Sven said.
Eric winked. “They haven’t seen anything yet.... The stuff flies, what can I say?”
“I was able to allay their concerns for the moment. I told them the particles might grow a little but like a hybrid, it wouldn’t propagate much.”
“They buy that?” His eyes crinkled with mirth.
“They wanted to...so they did.”
“How much time you think until our ruse goes public?”
“The bigger the embarrassment, the longer we have.”
Chapter 50
July 16, 1300 hours
Valladolid, Spain
The door slowly opened. A mid-30s woman, with long black hair hesitantly walked into a hotel room in Valladolid’s old city, about 170 kilometers northwest of Madrid, in the heart of the Castile region. Half an hour before, she had been given 100 euros from a similarly tall, redheaded woman on a nearby city street, just to show up for 20 minutes.
The black-haired woman fidgeted with her shoulder bag as she looked at the furniture. Some had obviously been pushed away from a now blank wall. Against that wall was a single cloth-covered picture frame resting on an easel.
The redhead, wearing dress gloves and dark sunglasses, held up another hundred euro bill and placed it on the table. In a locally accented Spanish, she instructed the arrival, “Stand here please, and face forward. Don’t look at the blank wall.”
The visitor did as instructed.
The redhead walked to the cloth and pulled it off, revealing the painting. “Keep looking forward.”
An iPhone camera on a tripod had been positioned to take a picture of the woman in front of the painting.
“Now smile.” The redhead took a couple photos, then walked back and covered the painting. “Here is a piece of paper and a pen. Please write, ‘Thank you for the loan – Maria.’”
Once done, the photographer handed the visitor the euros. “Here is your money, you may leave. Thank you.”
“Gracias, señorita!” The local woman walked out the door, her expression changing from perplexed to excited.
The redhead took the covering off and stared at the blood-red painting with the twisted appendages and prominent stain. Anna sighed.
For the past few weeks, you’ve dominated my life. She breathed in deeply and exhaled, feeling the weight on her chest lifting.... Good or bad, you released something in me. It’s time for you to go home.
She took the painting off the easel and removed it from the frame. The next few minutes she spent arranging the furniture as she had found it, then exited.
Five blocks away, the redhead dropped the disassembled iPhone into a trash bin. A few blocks later, a painting shipment tube was taken to a Madrid Fed-Ex office in the Centro District nearest the government administrative offices.
Chapter 51
July 18, 1400 hours
Anna’s Villa, Côte d'Azur, France
“Miss Anna, I not know what to say.” Maulana’s nervous voice was higher pitched than usual as he wrung his hands. “Are you leaving here?”
Anna pulled several legal documents out of her briefcase and lay them on the dining room table.
“Maulana, please sit.” She motioned to a chair next to her.
He sat, his quivering hands clasped on the table. A wispy greenish-gray thread had settled on the surface. His brow furrowed and he quickly picked it up with thumb and forefinger and put it into his pocket. “Sorry. I wipe table one hour ago. I not know what it is but I clean more and more of it last few days.”
“Never mind that....” She frowned knowing very well what the drifting moss was and meant. “Maulana, I’m just making plans in case something were to happen to me. I want to ensure everybody is taken care of…you, your family, Styx and Perses. You’ve taken great care of me over the years, as well as them. They are as much yours as mine. I don’t want them separated, or with people who won’t treat them well.”
She slid a document to him. “Here’s a sworn document that gives you sole possession.”
Another piece of paper was put on top of the first. “I’ve also set up an account for you that will provide enough money for you and your family, and the dogs, for the rest of your lives.”
Her eyes locked onto his, which he immediately lowered. “Don’t share the information with anyone else. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, Miss Anna.” His head slumped.
With tenderness in her eyes, she handed him another sheet of paper. “Maulana, I know you’ll do as I ask. If anyone challenges your authority, I want you to go to this attorney in Nice.... He’ll know what to do, and he already has money for the contingency.”
“Most certainly, Miss Anna.” His hands were now clasped tightly to reduce their trembling.
“And Maulana, if ever I’ve never fully expressed my appreciation to you, know that you’ve provided me with wonderful service over the years. Thank you.”
He tilted his brown eyes up to hers and softly said, “I could never have a better boss lady than you.”
Rat a tat tat, rooaaarrrr!...rooaaarrrr! sounded the Polar Bear Song ringtone later that evening.
Having her thoughts interrupted, she tossed a file folder with Pete’s passport information and some Photoshopped pictures of him into her briefcase.
“Hi Robert,” she answered with a subdued tone.
“Anna, hello! My dear, I haven’t heard from you since you left my apartment.” His voice expressed concern. “You’re not angry with me are you?”
“No, Robert, I could never be angry at you,” she responded softly. “You’re my polar bear...solid, never overwhelmed. With you I always feel comfortable.” She fingered the burgundy silk scarf that hung loosely from her neck.
“I’ve missed not having you on my arm the last couple weeks. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just busy,” she responded wistfully.