The Swarm

by Frank Schätzing

  'Do you know what, Jude?' hissed Johanson. He was so close now that there wasn't room to pass a hand between their faces. 'I don't believe you. As soon as you've got your bloody weapons, you're going to use them. Don't you see what will happen? They're amoebas, Jude! Millions and billions of single-cell organisms. They've been around since the beginning of time. We haven't even begun to understand their role in our ecosystem. There's no way of knowing what will happen to the oceans if you kill them. There's no way of knowing what will happen to us if you kill them. But quite apart from anything else: we won't be able to stop what they've started. Are you too blinkered to see that? How do you think you're going to get the Gulf Stream flowing without the yrr? What are you going to do about the worms?'

  'When we've finished with the yrr,' said Li, 'we'll start on the worms and bacteria.'

  'What? You want to pick a fight with bacteria? This whole planet is made of bacteria! You can't seriously intend to exterminate microbes. Exactly how deluded are you? You might think you rule the world, but if you were to go around exterminating microbes, you'd kill this planet. You'd be the ones destroying the Earth, not the yrr. You'd wipe out all the marine life and then-'

  'So darned what?' Vanderbilt erupted. 'You pathetic, ignorant, stupid, know-it-all asshole of a scientist. Who gives a toss if a few fish die, so long as we survive-'

  'But we won't!' Johanson was yelling now. 'Don't you get it? Life is interconnected. And we can't fight the yrr – they're superior to us. Fighting microbes is futile. Even normal viral infections defeat us – but that's not the point. Humans only survive on this planet because Earth is ruled by microbes.'

  'Sigur…' Li implored him.

  He turned round. 'Open the door,' he said. 'As far as I'm concerned, this conversation is over.'

  'Fine.' Li nodded, tight-lipped. 'Show Dr Johanson out, Sal.'

  Peak hesitated.

  'Is there something wrong with your ears, Sal? Dr Johanson has expressed his wish to leave.'

  'Are you sure we can't change your mind?' said Peak, sounding helpless and strained. 'Then maybe you'd see that it is the right decision.'

  'Just open the door, Sal,' said Johanson.

  Peak stepped forward reluctantly and pushed a switch on the wall. The door slid open.

  'And the other door, if you don't mind.'

  'Of course.'

  Johanson walked out.

  'Sigur!'

  He stopped. 'What now, Jude?'

  'You've accused me of failing to see the consequences of my actions. Who knows? Perhaps you're right. But make sure you face up to the consequences of yours. If you tell the others, you'll endanger their efforts to make contact. Maybe we didn't have the right to lie to you in the first place – but you need to consider whether you've got the right to tell the truth.'

  Johanson turned round slowly. Li was standing in the door of the control room. 'I'll certainly give it my careful consideration,' he said.

  'Then let's strike a deal. If you hold off until I've had time to find a solution, we can talk it through this evening. And, in the meantime, neither of us will do anything that might cause problems for the other. Can you see a way of co-operating with my proposal?'

  Johanson's jaw was grinding. What would happen if he dropped the bombshell? What would happen to him if he aimed her down point-blank?

  'Done,' he said.

  Li smiled. 'Thank you, Sigur.'

  WEAVER

  All things considered, she would have preferred to stay on the well deck. Anawak was still doing his best to lift Greywolf's spirits, which made her feel doubly disinclined to go. Her feelings for one man made her want to stay with him; the grief of the other made her reluctant to leave. She couldn't bear to see Greywolf so overwhelmed with sorrow. Yet what Johanson had told her was even more disturbing. The more she thought about it, the more ominous his memories seemed. Deep down she felt that they were all in grave danger.

  And by now Rubin would be back at the lab.

  'I'll see you later,' she said. 'Stuff to do.'

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew they sounded false. Too casual.

  Anawak's brow furrowed. 'Stuff?'

  'Oh, you know, bits and pieces.'

  She was rubbish at this kind of thing. She hurried up the ramp and into the passageway. The door to the lab was open. As she walked in, she caught sight of Rubin talking to Oliviera. They were standing by one of the benches. Rubin turned to her. 'Hi. You wanted to ask me something?'

  Weaver pushed the switch on the wall, so that the door closed behind her. 'I wondered if you could explain something.'

  'You picked the right man.' Rubin grinned.

  'That's good to know.' She joined them. Her eyes scanned the bench. All manner of equipment was littered over it, including an upright holder filled with scalpels of varying sizes. She said, 'I don't suppose you'll have any trouble telling me why there's a hidden lab up there, what you're doing in it, and why you knocked out Sigur?'

  HANGAR DECK

  Johanson was seething with rage. He was too furious to know what to do with himself, so he ran to the hangar deck and inspected the wall. In his memory he knew exactly where the door was, but there was still no trace of a camouflaged passageway. It was a waste of time looking for it: Li had already admitted that the lab existed. But he wasn't prepared to let it lie.

  Suddenly he noticed long streaks of rust in the grey paint of the bulkhead. Or, rather, he'd always known that they were there, but he'd never paid any attention to them because peeling paint and corrosion were not unusual on a vessel. Now it dawned on him that rust had no business on a new warship – and the Independence was brand new.

  He took a few steps back. The pipes on the left stretched up along the bulkhead, leading to a long streak of rust. Above that was a fuse box, surrounded by flaking paint.

  He'd found the door.

  It was incredibly well concealed. He would never have spotted it if he hadn't been looking; so determinedly. Even when he and Weaver had searched for it earlier, they'd fallen for the artful disguise. He still couldn't make out the contours, just an apparently random collection of details that in combination hid a door.

  Weaver!

  Would she have got to Rubin? Should he call her off, in line with what he'd said to Li?

  Breathing heavily, he paced up and down the empty deck, unsure what to do. Suddenly the ship took on the aspect of a prison. Even the gloomy hangar with its yellow lights seemed oppressive.

  He had to think.

  Striding towards the starboard side of the vessel, he stepped on to the elevator. Gusts of wind tugged at his clothes and hair. The swell was still rising. Within seconds his face was covered with spray. He walked to the edge and gazed down at the turbulent lunar landscape of the Greenland Sea.

  What was he to do?

  CONTROL ROOM

  Li was standing in front of the monitors. She watched as Johanson inspected the bulkhead and strode across the hangar deck in frustration.

  'What was all that crap about an agreement?' growled Vanderbilt. 'You don't really think he'll keep his mouth shut until tonight?'

  'It wouldn't surprise me,' said Li.

  'And what if he doesn't?'

  Johanson disappeared out of the hangar bay on to the elevator. Li turned 'You should know better than to ask. You're going to solve the problem, Jack. Right away.'

  'Hang on a minute,' Peak objected. 'That's not what we'd agreed.'

  'How do you mean, solve? Vanderbilt asked warily.

  'Solve,' said Li. 'I mean solve. A storm's getting up out there. You'd think people would know better than to wander outside. A gust of wind…'

  'No,' said Peak. 'No one said anything about-'

  'That's enough, Sal.'

  'Jude, we could lock him up for a few hours. That's all we need.'

  Li didn't bother to acknowledge him. 'Do your job, Jack,' she said to Vanderbilt. 'And make sure you do it personally! Vanderbilt grinned. 'With pleas
ure, baby.'

  LAB

  Oliviera's long face was now even longer. She stared at Weaver, then at Rubin.

  'Well?' said Weaver.

  Rubin blanched. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  'Mick, listen to me.' Weaver moved between him and the table and laid an arm across his shoulders in a gesture that seemed almost friendly. 'I'm not a great talker. I like short, snappy conversations. So why don't we start again? This time, don't wind me up with excuses. There's a lab directly above us. You can get there from the hangar deck. Sure, the door's well camouflaged, but Sigur saw you going in and out. And you socked him one. Isn't that right-'

  'I might have guessed.' Oliviera looked at Rubin contemptuously.

  The biologist tried to free himself from Weaver's grip, and failed. 'I've never heard such utter-No! Stop!'

  Weaver's free hand was wielding a scalpel. She pressed the tip against his artery. Rubin flinched. She pushed the blade a little further into his skin and tightened her grip. The biologist was locked in her embrace. 'Are you out of your mind?' he croaked. 'What right do you have to-'

  'Mick, I'm not squeamish. And I'm stronger than you'd think. When I was little, I cuddled a cat and accidentally crashed it. Isn't that awful? I only wanted to stroke it, and then, crunch… So, you'd do well to think over carefully what you're about to tell me…'

  VANDERBILT

  Vanderbilt had no real desire to kill Johanson, but neither was he interested in keeping him alive. In a funny way he liked the guy, but that was beside the point: he'd been given the assignment, and his instructions were clear. Johanson wouldn't pose a security risk for much longer.

  Floyd Anderson accompanied him. Like most of the men on the Independence, the first officer was there to serve a dual role. His training was with the navy, true, but his loyalties lay with the CIA. Almost everyone on board, with the exception of Buchanan and a few crew men, was on the CIA's books. Anderson had already taken part in covert operations in Pakistan and the Gulf He was a good agent.

  And a killer.

  Vanderbilt pondered the turn of events. He'd maintained his belief that they were fighting terrorists until the bitter end, but now he had to concede that Johanson had been right all along. It seemed a shame to kill him, particularly as it was Li's idea. Vanderbilt couldn't stand that blue-eyed witch. Li was paranoid, conniving and twisted. He hated her, and yet he couldn't fault the perfidious logic of her ruthlessness. She might be crazy, but she was right. And she was right about this.

  Suddenly he thought of how he'd warned Johanson about Li in Nanaimo.

  She's nuts. Capisce?

  Clearly Johanson hadn't understood.

  No one understood at first. They didn't get what was wrong with Li: her tendency to see conspiracies everywhere and her obsessive ambition meant that she overreacted. She lied, deceived and was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything to achieve her goals. That was the real Judith Li. She was the President's darling, and even he didn't see her for who she really was. The most powerful man in the world had no idea who he was fostering.

  We should all watch out, thought Vanderbilt. Unless someone grabs a gun and solves the problem – when the time comes.

  They hurried along the passageways. In loitering on the external platform, Johanson was doing them a big favour. How had that mad bitch put it? A gust of wind…

  CONTROL ROOM

  Vanderbilt was barely out of the room when Li was summoned to one of the consoles. The man at the desk pointed to the monitor. 'Looks like funny business in the lab,' he said.

  Li watched the action on the screen. Weaver, Oliviera and Rubin were standing in a huddle. Weaver had an arm round Rubin's shoulders and was pressing him to her chest. Since when had those two been such good friends?

  'More sound,' said Li.

  They heard Weaver talking. Her voice was faint, but clear. She was interrogating Rubin about the hidden lab. On closer inspection, Rubin's eyes were filled with fear, and Weaver was holding something that glinted in the light. It was uncomfortably close to Rubin's throat.

  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 Deep-flight 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.'