The Swarm

by Frank Schätzing

  'I heard you wanted to talk to me,' said Greywolf.

  His suede outfit was as greasy and scruffy as ever, but his hair was tied back in a long shiny plait. His teeth and eyes glinted. It was only a few days since Anawak had last spoken to him, but suddenly he saw Greywolf through different eyes. He exuded strength, charisma and natural charm. No wonder Delaware had fallen for him. 'I thought you were in Ucluelet,' he said.

  'I was.' Greywolf pulled up a chair. It creaked as he sat down. 'Licia said you needed me.'

  'Needed you?' Anawak smiled. 'I said it would be good to see you.'

  'Same difference. Well, I'm here now.'

  'How're things?'

  'A drink would improve them.'

  Anawak went over to the fridge, pulled out a beer and a Coke, and put them on the counter. Greywolf drank half of the Heineken in a single gulp.

  'Did I call you away from anything important?'

  'Nothing worth mentioning. I was fishing with a few rich pricks from Beverly Hills. All the jerks from your whale-watching have come over to my side. It seems no one's afraid of being attacked by a trout, so I branched out into angling. I'm doing fishing tours of our beloved island's lakes and rivers.'

  'I see your attitude to whale-watching hasn't changed.'

  'Why should it? I'm not going to cause you any trouble, though.'

  'Why, thank you,' said Anawak, sarcastically. 'But right now it wouldn't much matter. I mean, it's pretty handy that you're still on your mission to get vengeance for nature. Tell me again what you used to do for the navy.'

  Greywolf looked at him blankly. 'You know what I did.'

  'Well, tell me again.'

  'I was a dolphin-handler. We trained dolphins for military purposes.'

  'In San Diego?'

  'Yes, among other places.'

  'And you were pensioned off because of a heart defect or whatever. Honourably discharged.'

  'Exactly,' said Greywolf.

  'That's not true, Jack. You weren't discharged. You walked.'

  Greywolf set down the can almost cautiously on the counter. 'Where did you hear that bullshit?'

  'The files at the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center in San Diego seemed pretty clear to me,' said Anawak. 'Just so you know I'm in the picture: SSC San Diego took over from the Naval Command, Control and Ocean Surveillance Center, also of Point Loma, San Diego. The funding came from an organisation that now finances the US Navy's Marine Mammal Program. Each of those organisations is always mentioned in any account of marine-mammal training, and there's always the implication that they were involved in dubious experiments that allegedly never took place.' Anawak decided to call Greywolf's bluff. 'Experiments that were conducted in Point Loma, where you were stationed.'

  Greywolf watched him warily as he paced round the room. 'Why are you telling me this crap?'

  'The current research programme in San Diego looks at dolphin feeding habits, hunting, communication, training potential, possible ways of returning dolphins to the wild, and so on. But what really interests the military is the brain. Dolphin brains have fascinated the navy since the sixties, but around the time of the first Gulf War there was an upsurge of interest. You'd signed up a few years previously. By the time you left, you were a lieutenant, responsible for MK6 and MK7, two out of a total of four dolphin fleets.'

  Greywolf frowned. 'So what? Haven't you got other things to worry about in your committee? Like Europe, for example.'

  'One more step up the ladder, and you'd have been in charge of the entire dolphin programme. But you quit.'

  'I didn't quit. They discharged me.'

  Anawak shook his head. 'Jack, I've been given a few privileges lately, and that includes access to sources that are one hundred percent reliable. You left of your own accord, and I'd like to know why.'

  He picked up the Earth Island article and passed it to Greywolf, who glanced at it and put it down.

  For a while there was silence.

  'Jack,' said Anawak, softly, 'you were right. I am pleased to see you, but I do need your help.'

  Greywolf didn't respond.

  'Tell me what happened back then. Why did you leave?'

  Greywolf leaned back and crossed his hands behind his head. 'Why do yon want to know?'

  'Because there's a chance we'll be able to figure out what's happened to our whales.'

  'They're not your whales, Leon – or your dolphins either. You don't own them. Do you really want to know what's wrong with them? They're fighting back. It's payback time. We treated them like our playthings, hurt them, abused them, gawked at them and they're fed up with us.'

  'You don't really believe they're doing this of their own free will?'

  Greywolf shook his head. 'I'm not interested in why they do stuff. We shouldn't have taken such an interest in the first place. I don't want to understand them, Leon. I just want them to be left in peace.'

  'Jack,' Anawak said slowly, 'they're being forced to behave like this.'

  That's bull. Who the hell-'

  'They're being forced! I've got proof. I'm not even supposed to tell you this much, but I need your help. You want to stop them suffering, well, go on, then. They're suffering more than you could imagine-'

  'Than I can imagine?' Greywolf was on his feet. 'What the hell do you know about their suffering? You don't know a darned thing.'

  'Then tell me.'

  'I-' He seemed to be fighting an inner battle. Then he relaxed. 'Come with me,' he said. 'We're going for a walk.'

  FOR A WHILE they strolled along in silence. Greywolf took a path through the forest and down to the sea. A rickety jetty led away from the shore, looking out across the austere beauty of the bay. Greywolf walked along the ramshackle planks and sat down, legs dangling over the edge. Anawak followed him. All that could be seen of Tofino were a few houses on stilts peeping out beyond the headland to the right and the Station on the wharf. They gazed up at the mountains, resplendent in the late-afternoon sun.

  'There are a few things your sources didn't tell you,' Greywolf said finally. 'Officially there were four fleets of marine mammals: MK4 through to MK7. But there was a fifth in existence too, known as MKO. The navy calls them systems, not fleets, by the way. Each system is entrusted with a particular set of operational activities. The systems' centre is in San Diego, true, but I spent most of my time in Coronado, California, where the majority of the animals are trained. They're cared for in their natural habitat – creeks and ocean pens. And they have a pretty decent life there: they're well fed and they get excellent medical care – which is more than you can say for most people.'

  'So you were in charge of this fifth system.'

  'No, it wasn't like that. MKO is different. A regular system is made up of four to eight mammals with a specific objective. MK4, for instance, is assigned to finding mines on the seabed and marking their location. It's a dolphin-only system, and the animals are also trained to alert their handlers to the presence of saboteurs. MK5 is a sealion system. MK6 and MK7 are also used for mine-hunting, but their main purpose is to guard naval facilities against enemy divers.'

  'By attacking them?'

  'By nudging up against them. They affix a coiled rope to the suit of the diver, which connects the intruder to a float. The float is linked to a strobe, so it's easy to determine the diver's position, and the guys can take care of the rest. It works the same way with mine-sweeping. The dolphin alerts its handler as soon as it finds the mine. In some cases it dives down with a rope and a magnet – the magnet stays on the mine, and the end of the rope is returned to the boat. Provided the mine isn't anchored too firmly, it only takes a tug on the rope to get the job over and done with. You know, killer whales and belugas can even retrieve torpedoes from a depth of one kilometre. It's pretty darned impressive. What you have to realise is that mine-hunting is a dangerous business for humans. First, there's the risk of the thing exploding in your face, but worse, nine times out often you're searching the seabed at the heart of the c
onflict, right next to the shore – you get fired at all the time.'

  'But don't the mines kill the dolphins?'

  'According to the navy, no dolphin has ever been killed by a mine. In fact, a few have, but it's relatively rare. At any rate, when I started out, I didn't have anything to do with MKO, and I dismissed the stories as rumours. You see, MKO isn't a system as such: it's the codename for a series of programmes and experiments that take place in different locations with a constant stream of new animals. MKO mammals never come into contact with other systems, although members of the regular systems are sometimes recruited for MKO. That's the last anyone hears of them.' Greywolf paused. 'I was a good handler. MK6 was my first system. We participated in every major manoeuvre. In 1990 I took over MK7 as well. Eventually someone decided that maybe I should be told a bit more.'

  'About MKO.'

  'Naturally I knew all about the navy's first big dolphin-success story – Vietnam in the early seventies. Dolphins were used to guard the harbours in Camranh Bay and intercept Vietcong frogmen on sabotage missions. That's the first thing they tell you at MMS, and they're pretty damn proud of it. What they don't tell you are the details. Things like the Swimmer Nullification Program – you can bet you won't hear about that. You see, it wasn't your regular dolphin operation. Those animals were trained to tug at divers' masks and flippers and disconnect their air-supply. Oh, and to make things really brutal, they had lance-like knives on their beaks and fins. Some even had harpoons strapped to their backs. They weren't dolphins any more – they were killing machines. But that was harmless, compared to what came next. The navy strapped hypodermic needles to their beaks and the dolphins were ordered to ram the divers. The syringes contained carbon dioxide compressed at 3000 psi, which coursed through the divers' bodies and expanded. The victims exploded. Our animals killed over forty Vietcong and two of our own guys by mistake.'

  Anawak could feel his stomach cramping.

  'The same thing happened at the end of the eighties in Bahrain,' Greywolf continued. 'That was my first time on front-line duty. My system did exactly what was expected of it, and I still knew nothing about MKO. I had no idea that they were parachuting dolphins into enemy territory. Some were dropped from a height of three kilometres, and not all survived. Others were pushed out of helicopters without a parachute from a height of twenty metres. Dolphins were being used to attach mines to enemy warships and subs. If things looked risky, the charges would be detonated as soon as the creatures were in range. I should have quit when they told me all about it but the navy was my home. I was happy there. I'm not asking you to understand, but it's the truth.'

  Anawak was silent. He understood only too well.

  'So I took comfort in the fact that I was one of the good guys. But the men at the top had made up their minds that my talents could be put to better use on MKO. According to the bad guys, I was pretty damn good at handling animals,' Greywolf spat. 'And the son-of-a-bitches were right. I was good. Good, but stupid. Instead of telling them where they could stick their MKO, I said I'd help out. War was like that, I told myself. People are always dying in combat – they tread on a mine, get shot or burnt to death – so why make a fuss about a few dead dolphins? They sent me to San Diego where they were researching ways to make orcas carry nuclear weapons…'

  'Carry what?

  'I stopped being surprised by this stuff a long time ago. They wanted whales to carry nuclear warheads. The weapons weigh up to seven tonnes, but you can train a fully grown orca to drag them for miles, right into enemy waters. Stopping a nuclear orca is virtually impossible. I don't know what stage they're at now, but I figure they must have got it licked – back then they were still running tests. And that was how I came to witness another kind of experiment. The navy likes to show reporters video clips of dolphins: the dolphin swims off with a live mine, but instead of dumping it on the Russians and blowing the hell out of them, it comes back smiling with the mine between its teeth. The footage is designed to dispel any rumours that killer dolphins exist. Dolphins have been known to return with live mines, but it's practically unheard of. Besides, if it all goes wrong, it only costs the navy one vessel and three men, and that's a risk they're willing to take. They kept experimenting.' Greywolf paused. 'The trouble comes if you lose a nuclear whale. If one of those babies comes back with a primed bomb in its jaws, you're in trouble. The navy can send out as many orcas as it likes, but it needs to be sure that they won't get any funny ideas. And the best way to avoid that is to ban ideas altogether.'

  'John Lilly,' muttered Anawak.

  'What?'

  'He was a scientist. Carried out brain experiments on dolphins in the sixties.'

  'Yeah, I remember they talked about it,' Greywolf said. 'In any case, it was in San Diego that I saw them cracking open dolphins' skulls. That was in 1989. They used a hammer and chisel to make holes in the top of their heads. The animals were fully conscious, so it took a gang of strong guys to pin them down. They kept trying to leap off the table. It wasn't because of the pain, they kept telling me – the dolphins just didn't like the sound of hammering in their ears. The procedure was supposedly much less traumatic than it seemed. At any rate, they shoved electrodes through the holes to stimulate the brain using currents.'

  'That's exactly what Lilly did,' Anawak interrupted in excitement. 'He was trying to create a map of the brain.'

  'The navy has plenty of those, believe you me,' Greywolf said bitterly. 'It made me sick, but I kept my mouth shut. Next they showed me a dolphin. It was swimming in a tank with a kind of harness round its neck. The contraption was fitted with electrodes that pushed through the flesh. They'd found a way of steering the dolphin via electric signals. I mean, it was pretty amazing, to give them their due. They had it swimming left, right, then leaping clean out of the water. They could switch on its aggression and make it attack. They could even trigger its flight mechanism or induce calm. It didn't matter whether the animal would have wanted to participate. It was robbed of its will. It may as well have been a remote-controlled car or a wind-up toy. Well, they were excited, of course. It looked as though they'd made a breakthrough. So while the research team in San Diego continued to work on nuclear whales, we set off to the Gulf in 1991 with two dozen clockwork dolphins. I just went along with it. I'm not the quiet sort by nature, but for once I kept my mouth shut. It was none of my business, I kept telling myself. In the meantime, my dolphins looked for mines and were rewarded with food and attention. Then they started pressurising me to get actively involved in MKO. Somehow I managed to buy myself some thinking time – unpopular in the navy because you're not supposed to think. By that time we were in the Strait of Gibraltar, and we'd started to trial the technology at sea. At first it all went smoothly, but then we ran into problems. The control harnesses had worked perfectly in the laboratories and tanks, but in the open water the dolphins were subject to all kinds of stimuli. We started to get more misses than hits. It was obvious that it didn't work in the wild – or not in the way they'd expected. By now the dolphins were compromising our safety, and it was too late to take them back to the States. On the other hand, no one liked the idea of them swimming around in the Gulf so in the end we stopped off in France. The idea was to consult a French institute where experts were working on MKO. We don't usually get too friendly with the French, but they know a lot about the oceans so an alliance had been formed. We thought maybe they could help us. A man called Rene Guy Busnel was introduced to us as the head of the venerable Laboratoire d'Acoustique Animale. He promised to look into the problem, and took us on a tour of his splendid facility. First stop was a mutilated dolphin wedged into a vice. There was a knife the size of my arm sticking out of its back. I never did ask why. They gave us a card from the institute with their names signed in dolphin blood. To them it was all a big joke.'

  Greywolf sighed.

  'Busnel gave a long spiel about neural research and came to the conclusion that the procedure was flawed. There was evidently some
critical factor that had been overlooked or misjudged. Back on board we held council and the decision was taken to get rid of the animals. We released them into the water. Then, when they were a few hundred metres away from the boat, someone pushed the button. The electrode-harness contained explosives to stop the technology falling into the wrong hands. The charge was only small, but it was enough to blast away the equipment. The animals died. We continued on our way.'

  Greywolf chewed his lip. Then he looked up at Anawak. 'So there you have it: your Earth Island dolphins. The animals that washed up in France.'

  'And after that you…'

  'I told them I'd had enough. They tried talking me round, but I'd made up my mind. Of course, they didn't like the idea of one of their best dolphin-handlers quitting for undisclosed reasons – that kind of thing always attracts the attention of the press. So we talked, and in the end we came to an agreement. I got some cash, and they discharged me on the grounds of ill-health. I was a combat diver, you see, and you can't do that with a heart defect. No one asks awkward questions if they think there's something wrong with you. So they let me go.'

  Anawak was gazing out across the bay.

  'I'm not a scientist like you,' Greywolf said softly, 'I understand a bit about dolphins and how to handle them, but neurology means nothing to me. I can't stand to see anyone getting too interested in whales or dolphins. It winds me up just to see them taking photos. I can't help it.'

  'Shoemaker thinks you're still mad at us.'

  Greywolf shook his head. 'For a while I thought whale-watching was OK, but I couldn't handle it. I got myself thrown out- I made you guys do the hard part for me.'

  Anawak rested his chin on his hands. It all looked so beautiful – the bay, the mountains, the island. 'Jack,' he said, 'you're going to have to revise your opinions. It's happening again. Those whales aren't taking revenge. They're under someone's control. Someone's busy with their very own MKO. Your navy stuff is nothing compared to this.'