The Swarm: A Novel

by Frank Schätzing

  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 yelled.

  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 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?’

  ‘You’re the only one who’s interested in domination, you poor fool. How are you going to deal with the worms and stop the—’

  ‘We’ll poison them all. Once the yrr are out of the way, we’ll be able to do what we like down there.’

  ‘You’ll be poisoning humans.’

  ‘Well, here’s a thing, Sigur. Destroying humans is an opportunity in itself. It would do the planet a favour if there was a little more air to go round.’ Li’s eyes narrowed. ‘And now get out of my way.’

  Johanson didn’t move. He clung to the chain, and shook his head slowly. ‘I’ve sabotaged the boat,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to take your chances.’

  Li nodded. ‘I will.’

  Her arm jerked up and she fired. Johanson tried to dodge sideways. He felt the bullet perforate his sternum and a wave of pain washed through him.

  She’d shot him, the bitch.

  His fingers let go of the chain. He wobbled, tried to say something, then fell belly first into the pilot’s pod.

  Deck Elevator

  The instant he saw Crowe leaping towards him Anawak was seized with doubt. Arms flailing, Crowe had launched herself too far to the left. He ran sideways, arms outstretched, hoping that the impact wouldn’t pitch them into the sea.

  For all her daintiness, Crowe still hit him like a speeding bus.

  Anawak toppled backwards, Crowe on top of him. They were sliding down the slope. He heard her screaming and his own voice joined in. The back of his head banged on the asphalt, as he tried to brace his heels against the surface. It was the second time in one day that he’d had a bad experience on the elevator, and he hoped it would be the last - whatever the outcome.

  They stopped just short of the edge.

  Crowe stared at him. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked hoarsely.

  ‘Never better.’

  She rolled off him, tried to stand up, then pulled a face and slumped down.

  ‘No go,’ she said.

  Anawak jumped up. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘My right foot.’

  He knelt down next to her and felt her ankle.

  Crowe groaned. ‘I think it’s broken.’

  Anawak paused. Had he imagined it or was the ship tipping forward?

  The platform squealed.

  ‘Put your arm round my neck.’

  He helped Crowe to her feet. She could hobble along beside him at least. They made their way awkwardly into the hangar. They could barely see what was in front of them. And the deck was even steeper than before.

  How the hell are we going to get down the ramp? thought Anawak. It must be like a precipice now.

  Suddenly he was filled with rage.

  They were in the Greenland Sea, in the Arctic, his territory. He was an Inuk through and through. He’d been born in the Arctic, and he belonged there. But he wasn’t going to die there, and neither was Crowe.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get moving.’

  Deepflight 3

  Li ran to the control desk. She’d wasted too much time. She should never have allowed herself to be dragged into such a ridiculous discussion.

  She raised the Deepflight, then swung it over the jetty until it was hanging directly above her. She immediately spotted the two empty tubes. The larger torpedoes were in their usual position, but the smaller ones had been dismounted to make way for the radioactive cylinders. Excellent. With weapons like these, the Deepflight was handsomely armed.

  Quickly she pushed the cylinders into the tubes and locked them into place. The system was foolproof. As soon as they were fired, a detonator would ensure that the contaminated pheromone sprayed out at high pressure, ideally over the blue cloud. The sea would disperse it, and the yrr would take care of the rest. That was the best thing about the plan: Rubin’s use of programmed cell death. Once the yrr had been contaminated, the collective would destroy itself in an incredible chain reaction.

  He had done well.

  She double-checked that the cylinders were firmly in place, manoeuvred the Deepflight back over the sluice, and lowered it until it was bobbing on the water. There was no time to put on a wetsuit. She’d just have to be careful. She raced down the ladder to the boat and clambered on board. The Deepflight rocked. Her gaze fell on the open pilot’s pod; where Johanson was lying prone and inert.

  That stubborn old fool. Why couldn’t he have toppled to the side and fallen into the sluice? Now she had to dispose of a body too.

  Suddenly she felt almost sorry. In a way she’d liked and admired the guy.

  Under different circumstances she might…

  The vessel rumbled.

  It was too late to dispose of him. And, besides, it made no difference. The boat could be steered just as well from the co-pilot’s pod. It simply meant transferring the controls. And she could always get rid of Johanson later, once the boat was under water.

  There was a loud sound of breaking steel. Li crawled inside hastily and closed the pods. Her fingers sped over the controls. A low hum filled the air, as rows of lights and two small screens lit up. All the systems were ready. The Deepflight lay calmly on the dark green sea, ready to drop through the three-metre sluice into the depths. Li felt euphoric.

  She’d done it.

  Refuge

  Johanson was sitting by the lake. The water lay still before him, covered with stars. He’d been longing to return there. He looked at the landscape of his soul and was filled with joy and awe. He felt strangely disembodied, with no sensation of warmth or cold. Something had changed. He felt as though he were the lake, the small house beside it, the silent dark forest all around him, the noises in the undergrowth, the dappled moon…He was everything, and everything was in him.

  Tina Lund.

  It was a pity that she couldn’t be here too. He would have liked to grant her this restfulness, this peace. But she was dead, killed by nature’s violent protest against the rot of civilisation that had spread along the coasts. Wiped away, like everything else, leaving nothing but the image in front of his eyes. The lake was eternal. This night would never end. And the solitude would give way to soothing nothingness, the final pleasure of the egotist.

  Was that what he wanted?

  Solitude had undeniable advantages. Time was precious, and being alone meant that you could spend it with yourself. If you listened, you could hear the most extraordinary things.

  But when did solitude become loneliness?

  Suddenly he felt fear.

  Fear, like a pain spreading through him, eating at his chest and stealing his breath. A chill crept over him and he shivered. The stars in the lake expanded into red and green lights and buzzed with electricity. The landscape blurred, becoming shiny and rectangular. He was lying in a tunnel, a pipe or a tube.

  In a flash he was conscious.

  You’re dead, he told himself.

  No, he wasn’t quite dead. But he knew he had only seconds. He was lying in a submersible bound for the depths, laden with radioactive pheromone to repay the yrr’s crimes, if that was what they were, with an even worse transgression.

  There were no stars in front of him; just the control panel of the Deeplight. The lights were on. He raised his eyes in time to see the well deck disappear.

  They were in the sluice.

  In a tremendous act of will-power he swivelled his head to the side. In the body pod next to him he saw the beautiful profile of Judith Li.

  Li.

  She had killed him.

  Almost.

  The boat sank. Steel plates and rivets flashed past. Soon the submersible would be out of the vessel. Then nothing and no one would be able to prevent Li emptying her murderous cargo into the sea.

  He couldn’t let it happen.

  Sweating with effort he pushed his hands from under his body and stretched out his fingers. He nearly blacked o
ut. The instruments were in front of him. He was lying in the pilot’s pod. Li had transferred the controls, and was steering with the co-pilot’s instruments - but that could be changed.

  One push of a button and the controls would switch to him.

  Which one?

  Roscovitz’s chief technician, Kate Ann Browning, had shown him how to use the boat. She’d been thorough, and he’d listened attentively. He was interested in that kind of thing. The invention of the Deepflight heralded a new era of deep-sea exploration, and Johanson had always been fascinated by the future. He knew where the button was. And he knew how to use the other instruments and how to achieve what he intended. All he had to do was retrieve it from his memory.

  Think.

  Like dying spiders his fingers crawled over the control panel, smearing it with blood. His blood.

  Think.

  There it was. And next to it…

  He couldn’t do much now. The life was ebbing from his body, but he still had a last reserve of strength. And that would suffice.

  Go to hell, Judith Li.

  Li

  Judith Li stared out of the view dome. A few metres in front of her she could see the steel wall of the sluice. The boat was sinking leisurely towards the depths. One more metre, and she’d start up the propeller. Then a steep course downwards and to the side. If the Independence was going to sink within the next few minutes, she wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

  When would she encounter the first collective? A large one might pose a problem, she was aware of that, and she had no idea how large a collective could be. There was also the danger of running into orcas, but whatever happened she could blast her way free. She had nothing to fear.

  She had to wait for the blue cloud. The right moment to release the pheromone was when the yrr-cells were on the point of aggregation.

  Those goddamn amoebas were about to get the shock of their lives.

  Such an odd thought. Did amoebas feel shock?

  She did a double-take. A change had taken place on the control panel. One of the display lights had gone out, telling her that the controls had been…

  The controls!

  She was no longer in charge of the submersible. The controls had been switched to the pilot. On the monitor a display screen appeared, showing a diagram of four torpedoes; two slim ones and two larger ones.