Li had seen and heard enough. ‘Sal, I need you and three men with machine guns - at the double. We’re going in.’
‘What do you intend to do?’ asked Peak.
‘Restore order.’ She turned away from the screen and went to the door. ‘That question just cost us two seconds. Waste any more time, Sal, and I’ll shoot you myself. Get your men. You’ve got one minute. Then we’re going to straighten out a thing or two with Weaver. The closed season for scientists is over.’
Lab
‘You worthless bastard,’ said Oliviera. ‘You knocked Sigur unconscious. What the hell were you thinking?’
There was blind panic in Rubin’s eyes. He scanned the ceiling.
‘That’s not true, I—’
‘Don’t bother looking for cameras, Mick,’ Weaver said softly. ‘You’ll be dead before anyone gets here.’
Rubin started to shake.
‘I’m going to ask you again, Mick, what’s going on up there?’
‘We’ve developed a toxin,’ he stuttered.
‘A toxin?’ echoed Oliviera.
‘We used your work, Sue. I mean, yours and Sigur’s, of course. Once you’d worked out the formula for the pheromone, there was nothing to stop us manufacturing as much of it as we liked and…Well, we coupled it to a radioactive isotope.’
‘You did what?’
‘We contaminated the pheromone - the yrr-cells can’t tell the difference. We ran some trials and—’
‘Do you mean you’ve got a deep-sea chamber up there too?’
‘Only a small one…Karen, please. Put the knife away. It’s futile. They can hear and see everything—’
‘Stick to the point,’ said Weaver. ‘And then what?’
‘Well, the pheromone kills defective yrr-cells. They die because they don’t have special receptors - it’s just like Sue said. Once it was obvious that programmed cell death is part of yrr-biochemistry, we had to find a way of inducing it in healthy yrr as well.’
‘Via the pheromone?’
‘It’s the only way. We can’t mess with the DNA directly because we haven’t fully decoded the genome, and that would take years. We coupled the scent to a radioactive isotope that the yrr can’t detect.’
‘And what does it do?’
‘It shuts down the special receptor. It means the pheromone is deadly. It can kill healthy cells too.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ said Oliviera. ‘None of us actually likes these creatures. We could have come up with a solution together.’
‘Li’s got her own plans,’ squawked Rubin.
‘But it won’t work.’
‘It has worked. We trialled it.’
‘It’s madness, Mick. You don’t know what you’re unleashing. What if you wipe out the yrr? They control seventy per cent of our planet. They’re the force behind a sophisticated form of biotechnology that’s been around since the year dot. They live in other creatures too. I mean, for all we know, they could be present in every single marine organism. And what if they’re breaking down methane or carbon dioxide? God knows what will happen to the planet if you destroy them.’
‘But why should it kill all of them?’ asked Weaver. ‘Doesn’t the toxin just kill individual cells? Or collectives?’
‘No, it starts a chain reaction.’ Rubin was wheezing now. ‘Programmed cell death. As soon as they start to aggregate, they all destroy themselves. Once the pheromone docks on to them, it’s too late. There’s nothing they can do to stop it. We’re recoding the yrr. It’s like a deadly virus. They all infect each other.’
Oliviera grabbed Rubin by the collar. ‘You’ve got to stop these trials,’ she said urgently. ‘You can’t go down that route. For God’s sake, Mick, don’t you see that they’re the ones in charge? It’s their planet. They are the planet. They’re a superorganism. Thanks to them, the oceans are intelligent. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing.’
‘And if we don’t use the toxin?’ Rubin gave a croaky laugh. ‘Don’t give me all that self-righteous crap about ecosystems. We’re going to die, that’s what. Do you think we should wait for the next tsunami? I suppose there’s always the methane build-up or the ice age to look forward to.’
‘We haven’t been here a week yet, and we’ve already made contact,’ said Weaver. ‘Why can’t we keep trying for an agreement?’
‘It’s too late,’ rasped Rubin.
Weaver’s eyes darted over the ceiling and walls. She didn’t know how much time she had left before Li or Peak showed up. Maybe Vanderbilt would come running. It couldn’t be long. ‘What do you mean, too late?’
‘It’s too late!’ screamed Rubin. ‘We’re releasing the toxin in less than two hours.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Oliviera whispered.
‘Mick,’ Weaver said, ‘I need you to tell me exactly how you’re going to do it. Otherwise my hand might slip.’
‘I’m not authorised—’
‘I mean it.’
Rubin was trembling all over. ‘We’re using two torpedoes on Deepflight 3. We’ve packed the radioactive pheromone into projectiles.’
‘Are they on the sub already?’
‘No, it’s my job to load them and—’
‘Who’s taking them down?’
‘I’m going with Li.’
‘She’s going herself?’
‘Well, it was her idea. She doesn’t leave anything to chance.’ Rubin managed a smile. ‘You won’t be able to stop her, Karen. There’s nothing you can do. We’re the ones who’re going to save this planet. Our names are the ones that people will remember—’
‘Shut up, Mick.’ Weaver began to push him towards the door. ‘You’re going to take me to your lab. That toxin isn’t going anywhere. The script’s just changed.’
Well Deck
‘So is anything going on between you and Karen?’ asked Greywolf, stowing equipment in crates.
Anawak was taken aback. ‘Er, no. Not really.’
‘Not really?’
‘As far as I know, we’re just good friends.’
Greywolf gave him a look. ‘It’s about time one of us started to do things right,’ he said.
‘What if she’s not interested?’ As soon as he’d said it, Anawak realised what he’d confessed. ‘I’m hopeless at that kind of thing, Jack.’
‘Evidently,’ said Greywolf, sarcastically. ‘You didn’t join the world of the living until your old man died.’
‘Hey…’
‘Calm down, buddy, you know I’m right. Why don’t you chase after her? She obviously wants you to.’
‘I came down here to see you, not because of Karen.’
‘I appreciate it. Now, go.’
‘For God’s sake, Jack. Stop shutting yourself away. Let’s take a walk before your feet turn into fins.’
‘Fins would suit me fine.’
Anawak glanced at the tunnel, unsure what to do. Of course he was impatient to go after Weaver - and not only because he had feelings for her, as he’d just admitted to Greywolf and himself. No, he was sure that something was bothering her. She’d seemed agitated and tense. He couldn’t help thinking of what she’d told him about Johanson.
‘OK, you moulder away by yourself, then,’ he said to Greywolf, ‘but feel free to come and find me if you change your mind.’
He left the well deck and walked past the lab. The door was closed. He thought about popping in. Maybe Johanson would be there. Then he decided against it and carried on up the ramp towards the hangar deck to look at the mysterious wall.
As he entered the bay he caught sight of Vanderbilt and Anderson disappearing on to the elevator platform.
Suddenly he felt uneasy. What were they doing there?
And where had Weaver got to?
The Abyss
A strong westerly howled through the air. It was blowing in from the polar ice caps, sending white-crested waves crashing into the Independence’s hull and drawing what was left of the warmth from the sea.
Beneath
its turbulent surface the ocean was swirling and raging, but as the depth increased, the storm died down. It was here that, only a few months previously, icy cascades of salt-laden water had poured into the depths. It was still bitterly cold, but now the salt was being diluted as fresh water streamed in from the ice caps, which were melting rapidly because of an influx of warmth. The North Atlantic pump, which drew oxygen-rich water into the depths like an underwater lung, was slowly coming to a halt. The ocean conveyor slowed, and the warmth-giving current from the tropics dried up.
But it hadn’t stopped yet. Even though the chimneys could no longer be detected, small quantities of cold water were still trickling into the depths. Through the lightless calm of the ocean they fell towards the bottom of the Greenland basin, metre by metre, till they were hundreds, then thousands of metres down.
At a depth of 3.5 kilometres, just above the silty seabed, the darkness gave way to a blue glow.
It covered a vast expanse, not as a cloud of light, but as a long tube of jelly with thin walls. It was anchored to the seabed by countless tiny feet. Inside the tube millions of tentacular protuberances were rising and falling in rhythmical waves, a meadow of feelers moving in synchrony. They were conveying big lumps of a whitish substance towards a large object. The blue glow was barely strong enough to illuminate its contours, so all that was visible were two open pods. The Deepflight stuck out of the silt at an angle, but most of the submersible was hidden in the gloom.
For some time now, the organism had been loading it with frozen white lumps, and the boat was nearly full. The supply chain ceased. One section of the tube separated off, sank towards the boat and began to encase it. The transparent substance around the hull contracted, closing the pods as it compressed. Shimmering layers of blue spread out and merged until the vessel was sealed with jelly. A long thin tube moved towards it and began to pulsate. Water was being pumped through it. Water that didn’t belong there. The delicate tube of jelly was drawing it from an enormous organic balloon suspended over the boat and filled with warm water originating from the mud volcano near the Norwegian continental shelf. By all rights, the balloon should have risen to the surface, propelled by the warmer - and lighter - water inside, but its weight kept it stable.
Warmth streamed into the sac of jelly that was wrapped round the boat.
The white lumps reacted immediately. In a matter of seconds the frozen cages trapping the gas had melted. The compressed methane expanded to 164 times its former volume, filling the Deepflight with gas and inflating the sack of jelly until it was taut and swollen. It detached from the tube and sealed itself off. Unable to escape, the gas rose upwards, slowly at first, but then, as the pressure around it decreased, picking up speed. The gas, the cocoon, and the submersible shot towards the surface.
Lab
With one arm clamped round Rubin and the other hand holding the scalpel to his throat, Weaver shuffled forward. She didn’t get far. The door to the lab slid open. Three heavily armed soldiers stormed inside and took aim. She heard Oliviera cry out in horror. Weaver stopped in her tracks, but held on to Rubin.
Li walked into the lab, followed by Peak. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Karen.’
‘Jude,’ croaked Rubin, ‘about time too. Get this lunatic off me.’
‘Quiet,’ Peak barked at him. ‘We wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you.’
Li smiled. ‘Karen,’ she said, ‘don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?’
‘Given what Mick has been saying…No.’
‘And what has he been saying?’
‘Oh, he was very helpful. Weren’t you, Mick? Told us everything we need to know.’
‘She’s lying,’ hissed Rubin.
‘Hmm…Chain reactions, torpedoes full of toxins and Deepflight 3. Oh, and he mentioned that the two of you were planning an excursion - in the next few hours.’
‘Tsk.’ Li took a step forward. Weaver grabbed Rubin and pulled him back towards Oliviera, who was standing motionless beside the bench. She still had the test-tube rack containing the pheromone samples in her hand.
‘Mick Rubin is probably one of the best biologists in the world,’ said Li. ‘The trouble is, he always has to prove himself. He’d give anything to be famous. That’s why he finds it so hard to keep his mouth shut. You’ll have to excuse him. Mick would sell his own grandmother for a taste of fame.’ She came to a halt. ‘But no matter. You know what we’re planning so you’ll understand our reasons. I’ve done my best to stop the situation escalating, but now everyone seems to know the secret, so you’ve left me no choice.’
‘Don’t do anything stupid, Karen,’ Peak implored her. ‘Let him go.’
‘I’ll do no such thing.’
‘He’s still got work to do. If you let him go, we’ll talk later.’
‘There’s been more than enough talking already.’ Li pulled out her pistol and took aim at Weaver. ‘Let go of him, Karen, or I’ll shoot. I’m not going to warn you again.’
Weaver looked into the small round barrel of the gun. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she said.
‘Really?’
‘There’s no need.’
‘You’re making a mistake, Jude,’ Oliviera said hoarsely. ‘You can’t use the toxin. I was just telling Mick how…’
Li wheeled around, took aim at Oliviera and pulled the trigger. The scientist was tossed back against the bench and slid slowly to the floor. The case of test-tubes dropped from her hand. For a second she looked, surprised, at the first-sized hole in her chest, then her eyes glazed.
‘What the hell are you playing at? shrieked Peak.
The gun was pointing at Weaver. ‘Now let him go,’ said Li.
Deck Elevator
‘Dr Johanson!’
Johanson swivelled. Vanderbilt and Anderson were heading towards him across the platform. Anderson looked impassive and detached. His black button eyes were fixed on something in the distance.
Vanderbilt was beaming. ‘I guess you’re pretty pissed at us,’ he said.
There was something chummy and casual about his demeanour. Johanson frowned as he watched them approach. He was standing at the far end of the platform, only metres from the edge. Hefty gusts of wind buffeted his face. The waves were crashing beneath him. He’d been thinking about going inside. ‘What brings you here, Jack?’
‘Nothing in particular.’ Vanderbilt made an apologetic gesture. ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry. It’s all so unnecessary. We shouldn’t be arguing. The whole darned thing is ridiculous.’
Johanson didn’t reply. Vanderbilt and Anderson were getting closer. He took a step to the side. They stopped.
‘Is there something you wanted to discuss?’ asked Johanson.
‘I was rude to you earlier,’ said Vanderbilt. ‘I apologise.’
Johanson raised his eyebrows.
‘That’s very noble of you, Jack. Apology accepted. Can I help you with anything else?’
Vanderbilt faced into the gale. His thinning pale blond hair quivered in the wind like beach grass. ‘Pretty darned cold out here,’ he said, moving forward. Anderson followed his lead. A distance opened between them. It looked as though they were trying to close in on Johanson. There was no longer any room for him to slip between them or dodge to either side.
What they were intending was so obvious that he didn’t even feel surprised. He was gripped by fear, - fear, mixed with desperate fury. Without thinking he took a step backwards, and knew he had made a mistake. He was very close to the edge now. Their job was almost done for them. A sudden gust could knock him into the nets or over the top and into the water. ‘Jack,’ he said slowly, ‘you wouldn’t be planning to kill me, would you?’
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ Vanderbilt assumed a look of mockamazement. ‘I only want to talk.’
‘Then why bring Anderson?’
‘Oh, he was just passing. Pure coincidence. We thought—’
Johanson rushed towards Vanderbilt, ducked and d
arted to the right. He was away from the edge. Anderson leaped towards him. For a moment it looked as though the improvised tactic had worked, then Johanson felt himself grabbed and dragged backwards. Anderson’s fist flew towards him and landed in his face.
He fell and skidded across the platform.
The first officer moved towards him without any urgency. His powerful hands disappeared beneath Johanson’s armpits and hauled him up. Johanson tried to prise his fingers under Anderson’s grip and loosen it, but it was like grappling with concrete. His feet left the ground. He kicked out wildly as Anderson carried him towards the edge where Vanderbilt was waiting, peering down at the sea.
‘Quite a swell today,’ said the CIA agent. ‘I hope you won’t mind if we cast you off now, Dr Johanson. I’m afraid you’ll have to swim.’ His teeth flashed. ‘But don’t worry, you won’t be going any great distance. The water’s pretty chilly - two degrees at most. It will be quite relaxing. The body just slows down, the senses go numb, the heart packs up, and—’
Johanson started to shout. ‘Help!’ he screamed. ‘Help!’
His feet were dangling over the side. The net was beneath him. It only extended two metres beyond the platform. Not far enough. Anderson could easily throw him over the top.
‘Help!
He heard Anderson groan as suddenly he was yanked towards the safety of the platform. The sky came into view as Anderson thudded on to his back, pulling Johanson with him, then letting go. Johanson rolled to the side and jumped up. ‘Leon!’ he gasped.
A grotesque scene was unfolding before him. Anderson was trying to clamber to his feet. Anawak had fastened himself on to him from behind and was clutching his jacket. They’d fallen to the ground together. Now Anawak was attempting to free himself from the man’s weight without releasing his grip.
Johanson was about to intervene.
‘Stop!’
Vanderbilt barred his path. He was holding a gun. Slowly he walked round the bodies on the floor until he was standing with his back to the exit.
‘Nice try,’ he said. ‘But that’s enough now. Dr Anawak, please be so kind as to allow Mr Anderson here to get up. He’s only doing his job.’
Reluctantly Anawak let go of Anderson’s hood. The first officer shot up. He didn’t wait until his adversary was on his feet, but hoisted him into the air like a sack of coal. The next instant Anawak’s body was flying towards the edge.
The Swarm: A Novel Page 93