The Swarm

by Frank Schätzing

  'Nonsense,' cried Anawak. 'I can fly it as well as you can.'

  'It's my world down there. It's the deep blue sea, Leon. That's been my world since I was ten.'

  He opened his mouth but Weaver pressed her finger to his lips and shook her head. I'm going.' She looked around. 'Once I'm in, you can open the sluice and lower me. God knows what will happen once the flaps are open. We may find ourselves under attack, or maybe nothing will happen. Let's hope for the best. Once I've released the boat from the chain, wait a minute or so if you can, then take the second sub. Don't try to follow me. Stay close to the surface and get away from the ship. I may have to dive pretty deep. And afterwards…' She paused. 'Well, hopefully someone will fish us out. At least these things have satellite transmitters.'

  'At a rate of twelve knots it would take two days to get to Greenland or Svalbard,' said Johanson. 'There's not enough fuel.'

  Her heart felt heavier all the time. She gave Johanson a hug – and remembered their escape from the tsunami in the Shetlands. They'd see each other again.

  'Brave girl,' he said.

  Then she took Anawak's face in both hands and pressed her lips firmly to his. They'd never really talked, never done any of the things that would have been so right. . . Then she leaped into the pilot's pod. The submersible rocked gently. Lying on her belly, Weaver got into position and activated the locks. Slowly the pods closed. She scanned the instruments and gave the thumbs-up.

  The World of the Living

  Johanson stepped up to the control desk, opened the sluice and lowered the boat. They watched as the Deepflight dropped down and the steel flaps swung open beneath it. Dark water. This time nothing tried to force its way inside the vessel. Weaver used the controls to uncouple the submersible from its chain. It splashed down and sank through the water. Trapped air shimmered inside the clear domes. The craft's colours paled, its contours blurred, and it became a shadow.

  It vanished.

  Anawak felt a twinge.

  The heroes' roles were handed out long ago, and they're only for dead men. You belong in the world of the living.

  Greywolf!

  Perhaps you'll need someone to tell you what the bird spirit sees.

  Akesuk had been talking about Greywolf! His friend had been able to interpret his dream. The iceberg had melted, but Anawak's path didn't lead into the depths: it took him up to the light.

  Into the world of the living.

  To Crowe.

  Anawak's mind jerked back to the present. Of course. How could he have allowed himself to be sidetracked? There was work to be done on board the Independence.

  'What now?' asked Johanson.

  'Plan B.'

  'Which is?'

  'I've got to go back up.'

  'Are you crazy? Whatever for?'

  'I need to find Sam – Sam and Murray.'

  'They've all gone,' said Johanson. 'The ship must have been evacuated by now. They were in the CIC last time I saw them. They were probably on the first helicopter out.'

  'No.' Anawak shook his head. 'They can't have been. Or, at least, Sam wasn't – I'm sure I heard her shouting for help. Look, I don't want to bore you with my problems, Sigur, but I've spent too long avoiding things in life. I'm not like that any more, and I can't just look away. Do you see?'

  Johanson smiled.

  'I'm going to give it one last try. In the meantime, you can lower Deepflight 3 and get her ready to go. If I don't find Sam in the next few minutes, I'll come back and we'll get the hell out of here.'

  'And if you do find her?'

  'Then we've always got Deepflight 4.'

  'OK.'

  'Do you mean that?'

  'Of course.' Johanson spread his hands. 'What are you waiting for?'

  Anawak bit his lip. 'If I'm not back in five minutes you're to leave without me.'

  'I'll wait.'

  'Five minutes. No longer.'

  Anawak ran down the jetty. The opening of the tunnel was flooded, but the ship hadn't tilted any further during the last few minutes.

  Water swirled round his ankles. He waded in, swam a few strokes and walked a couple of metres until it got deeper. As he approached the start of the ramp leading up to the hangar, the ceiling seemed to tilt towards the water. There were still a few metres of air left overhead. He swam past the locked door to the lab, turned the corner and looked up. While parts of the ramp had become almost level, others were precipitously steep. The section leading up to the hangar deck now formed a gloomy peak. A dark cloud of smoke hung above it. He'd have to crawl up on all fours. In spite of the wetsuit he was cold. Even if they escaped in the submersible, there was no guarantee that they'd come out of this alive.

  They had to: he had to see Karen again.

  He set about trying to clamber up.

  It was easier than he'd expected: the steel ramp was ridged to provide grip for military vehicles and troops. Little by little Anawak pulled himself up. The temperature rose as he ascended, and he felt warmer. Now he was plagued by thick, sticky smoke, which settled in his lungs. The higher he climbed, the denser it became. Now the roaring noise from the flight deck was audible again.

  The fire had already been blazing when he'd heard Crowe's shouts for help. If she'd survived the start of it, she might still be alive.

  Coughing, he hauled himself up the final few metres and was surprised to find that visibility on the hangar deck was better than it was on the ramp. The tunnel had trapped the smoke, while up here it could circulate, entering through one gateway and escaping through the other. The air in the bay was as hot and oppressive as a furnace. Anawak covered his nose and mouth with his forearm and ran across the deck. 'Sam?' he shouted.

  No answer.

  'Sam Crowe? Samantha Crowe?'

  He had to be mad.

  But it was better than living like a dead man. Greywolf had been right: he'd been no better than a corpse.

  'Sam!'

  Well Deck

  Johanson was alone.

  He had no doubt that several of his ribs were broken, thanks to Floyd Anderson. Every little movement hurt like hell. During their efforts to retrieve Rubin's body and load it into the Deepflight, there'd been several occasions when he could have screamed, but he'd gritted his teeth.

  His strength was running out.

  He thought of the Bordeaux in his cabin. What a waste! He could have used a glass of it now. So what if he had to drink it by himself? He was the only bon vivant left on board. In fact, among all the people he'd met over the last few months not one had shared his taste for the finer things in life.

  He was probably a dinosaur.

  A Saurus exquisitus, he thought, as he lowered Deepflight 3 until it was level with the jetty.

  The idea appealed to him. Saurus exquisitus. It described him exactly. A fossil who was happy to be just that. . . exhilarated by the future and the past, which filled his dreams squeezing out the present.

  Gerhard Bohrmann would have known how to appreciate a glass of Bordeaux, but otherwise there was no one. Sure, Sue Oliviera had enjoyed it, but she would have enjoyed a supermarket bottle just as much. Among all the people who'd worked together in the Chateau, there was no one whose tastes were sufficiently cultivated to appreciate a fine vintage Pomerol. Except perhaps…

  Judith Li.

  He tried to block out the pain in his chest as he jumped on to the Deepflight. Landing upright, he groaned, knees quaking. Then he crouched, opened the control flap and activated the mechanism to unlock the pods.

  The domed tops rose slowly into the vertical position. The pods lay open at his feet. 'All aboard,' he trumpeted.

  It was odd. There he was, balancing on top of a submersible, left alone in a well deck that was tilting out of the sea. You never could tell where life would take you next.

  And as for Li…

  He'd rather pour his wine into the Greenland Sea than give a drop of it to her. Sometimes the only way to do justice to the finer things in life was to make s
ure certain people couldn't have them.

  Li

  She ran up to the hangar deck, panting for breath. The bay was shrouded in smoke. She stared at the sooty clouds, trying to discern what lay beyond them.

  Then she heard the voice: 'Sam? Samantha Crowe?'

  Was that Anawak shouting?

  There didn't seem much point in killing him now. Besides, the bow's remaining bulkheads might give way at any moment. The vessel was in danger of splitting, and when that happened, the Independence would go down in seconds.

  She ran to the ramp and peered into a smoke-filled cavern. Her stomach turned. Li wasn't easily scared, she wasn't cowed by the need to go down there, but if she let go of the torpedoes, they'd end up in the water.

  She edged down the ramp, feet turned sideways, taking one small step at a time. It was dark and oppressive and the smoke was smothering her. The soles of her boots made empty clunking noises on the metal.

  All of a sudden she lost her balance and sat down with a thud, legs stretched out in front of her. Still clutching the torpedoes, she slid painfully over the uneven surface of the ramp. The ridges hammered against her spine and the water rushed towards her.

  The ramp fell away and she splashed down, then surfaced, gasping for air.

  She still had the torpedoes.

  A muffled groan shook the tunnel walls. She pushed off and swam through the passageway, round the corner and towards the well deck. The water wasn't as cold as she'd expected. It must have come from the basin. The lights had gone out in the tunnel, but the well deck had its own power supply. She could see it getting brighter ahead. As she got closer she could make out the outlines of the jetties sticking up into the air, then the stern gate looming menacingly over the basin, and two submersibles, one of which was dangling at the height of the jetty.

  Two submersibles?

  Deepflight 2 had vanished.

  And someone in a wetsuit was balanced on Deepflight 3. Johanson.

  Flight Deck

  Apart from supplying Crowe with cigarettes, the Pakistani cook wasn't proving very helpful. Huddled wretchedly at the far end of the stern, he was in no fit state to make plans. Her own attempt had been no more successful. She stared helplessly at the raging flames. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of giving up. As someone who'd spent decades listening for signals from space, the idea of resigning herself to death seemed absurd. It just wasn't an option.

  All of a sudden there was a thunderous bang. A fiery cloud spread over the island, crackling and bursting like a firework display. Powerful vibrations shook the deck, then plumes of flames shot out of the inferno, stretching towards them.

  The cook screamed. He jumped up, took a step backwards, stumbled, and toppled over the side. Crowe tried to grab his outstretched hands. For a split second he steadied himself, face twisted with fear, then fell. He hit the rising stern gate, then disappeared. Crowe heard a splash, drew back from the edge in horror, and glanced around.

  She was surrounded by flames. Everywhere around her the asphalt was burning. It was unbearably hot. Only the starboard quarter had escaped the shower of fire. For the first time she was seized with real despair.

  The heat forced her to retreat. She ran to the starboard quarter and continued along the side.

  Past the equipment for the elevator.

  What now?

  'Sam?'

  Great, now she was hearing things too. Or had someone just called her name? Impossible.

  'Sam Crowe?'

  Someone was calling her name.

  'I'm over here,' she veiled.

  Where was the voice coming from? There was no sign of anyone on the flight deck.

  Then it dawned on her.

  She leaned cautiously over the edge and saw the outline of the platform, tilting towards the sea.

  'Sam?'

  'I'm here! Up here!'

  She was screaming her heart out. All of a sudden someone ran on to the platform, looking up at the deck.

  It was Anawak.

  'Leon!' she called. 'Leon, I'm up here!'

  'Jesus, Sam.' He stared up at her. 'I'll come and get you.'

  'How?'

  'I'll run up.'

  'There's nowhere left to run,' she shouted. 'It's a mass of flames; the island, the flight deck, everything.'

  'Where's Murray?'

  'Dead.'

  'We've got to get out of here, Sam.'

  'Thanks for pointing it out.'

  'Can you jump?'

  Crowe stared down. 'I don't know.'

  'Do you have a better idea that might work in the next ten seconds?'

  'No.'

  'We'll escape in a Deepflight.' Anawak stretched out his arms. 'Just jump. I'll catch you.'

  'Forget it, Leon. You'd be better off standing to one side.'

  'Come on, Sam. Stop talking, start jumping.'

  Crowe cast a final look over her shoulder. The flames were licking towards her. 'OK, Leon, here goes.'

  Well Deck

  Where the hell had Anawak got to? The submersible rocked gently on the water. Johanson crouched on top of it. There was nothing in the darkness to indicate the presence of the yrr. Why would there be? It wasn't as though an attack would be necessary. All they had to do was bide their time and wait for the vessel to sink. In the end they'd humbled even the mighty Independence. The five minutes were up.

  Strictly speaking, he could go. There'd still be a submersible left for Anawak and Crowe.

  But if Anawak returned with Crowe and Shankar, they'd have to use both boats. He couldn't leave.

  Under his breath he started humming Mahler's Symphony No. 1.

  'Sigur!'

  Johanson spun round. Pain stabbed through his upper body, preventing him breathing. Li was standing behind him, level with the boat. Two slim cylinders lay beside her on the jetty. She was pointing a gun at him.

  'Come down from the boat, Sigur. Don't force me to shoot.'

  Johanson grabbed the chain attaching the Deepflight to the rack.

  'Move.'

  'Are you threatening me, Jude?' He gave a dry laugh as he tried to think. He had to delay her. He needed to improvise – to stall her, keep her talking until Anawak arrived. 'Well, I wouldn't shoot if I were you. Not if you're planning on using this sub.'

  'What's that supposed to mean?'

  'You'll see soon enough.'

  'Explain yourself.'

  'All these explanations are tedious, don't you think? Come on, General Commander Li, don't be shy – shoot me now and find out later.'

  Li hesitated. 'What have you done to the boat, you goddamn jerk?'

  'You'll never believe this,' Johanson struggled to his feet, 'but I'm actually going to tell you. In fact, I'll even help you fix it providing you'll explain yourself to me!

  'There's no time.'

  'Uh-huh. That's awkward.'

  Li glared at him. She lowered the gun. 'Ask away.'

  'Oh, surely you know the question already. Why?'

  'Do you really have to ask?' Li snorted. 'Why don't you use that high-powered brain of yours? What do you think the world would do without America? There's only one enduring model of national and international order that works for every individual in every single society, and that's the American one. We can't allow the world to solve this problem. We can't allow the UN to solve it. The yrr have inflicted untold damage on humanity, but their stock of knowledge and understanding could be even more deadly. Who would you like to see inherit that knowledge, Sigur?'

  'Those most competent to deal with it.'

  'Exactly.'

  'But that's what we were working towards, Jude. Don't we want the same things? We could reach an agreement with the yrr. We could-'

  'Don't you get it? We don't have that option. It's against the interests of my country. That knowledge belongs to the United States of America, and we're obliged to do everything in our power to prevent others attaining it. It leaves us with no choice: we have to liberate the planet from the
yrr. Even agreeing to coexist would be an admission of failure – a sign of our defeat, the defeat of humanity, of our faith in God and the world's faith in American supremacy. But the worst thing about coexisting with the yrr would be the new world order that would follow. We'd all be equal in the eyes of the yrr. Any state with the requisite technology would be able to communicate with them. They'd all try to forge alliances, try to seize the yrr's knowledge – who knows? In the end the yrr might even be conquered. And whoever conquers the yrr will rule the planet.' She took a step towards him. 'Don't you see what that would mean? There's a species down there that uses biotechnology of a kind we'd never even dreamed of. The only way of communicating with them is by biological means. The whole world will start experimenting with microbes, and there'll be nothing we can do. We can't let that happen. There's no alternative but to destroy the yrr. America has to take charge. We can't afford to cede power to anyone else – and especially not to that joke of a UN assembly, where every last scumbag gets a vote.'

  'You must be out of your mind,' said Johanson. He was racked with coughing. 'What kind of a person are you, Li?'

  'The kind who's devoted to God and to-'

  'The only thing you're devoted to is your career. You're power-crazy.'

  'I believe in God and my country,' Li yelled. 'I believe that the United States has a calling to save humanity and to-'

  'Put everyone else in their place once and for all.'

  'So what? Everyone always wants America to do all the dirty work, and now we're doing it. It's only right. We can't allow the world to share in the yrr's knowledge, so we have to destroy them and preserve that knowledge for ourselves. Then there'll be no doubt who controls the fate of the planet. Hostile regimes or dictators won't stand a chance. No one will be capable of contesting our supremacy.'

  'What you're planning is the destruction of mankind.'

  Li flashed her teeth in a grin. 'You scientists are always so quick to come up with these tired old objections. None of you ever had the courage to think we could defeat our enemy – it didn't even occur to you that annihilating the yrr would solve all our problems. You just keep whining away about how eliminating amoebas could destroy the planet's ecosystem. Well, the yrr are destroying the ecosystem already. They're wiping us out! Don't you think a little short-term environmental damage is a fair price to pay for restoring us to our position as the dominant race?'