This allowed scientists to prove another fundamental principle of ocean dynamics: the rotation of the planet determined the speed and direction of the gyres.
Logically, therefore, the Gulf Stream wasn’t a stream, but the western boundary of an enormous vortex made up of smaller eddies: a gyre rotating slowly, and pushing towards North America in a clockwise direction. Because the whirlpool wasn’t in the centre of the Atlantic Ocean but to the west, the Gulf Stream was pushed against the American coast, where the water piled up in a ridge. Strong winds and the poleward flow of the water increased the speed of the swirl, while the immense lateral shear with the coastline slowed it down. As a result, the north Atlantic whirlpool was rotating in a steady circular current, in line with the principle of angular momentum, which ruled that circular movements remained stable unless disrupted by an external force.
And it was the possibility that the current was being disrupted that Bauer had feared. He’d been trying to find proof. Water had stopped cascading into the Greenland Sea, which was alarming, but not decisive. Proving the existence of global changes meant obtaining data on a global scale.
In 1995, after the Cold War had ended, the American military had begun to release the Geosat maps and the system had been replaced with a string of new satellites. Karen Weaver had access to all their data, which combined to form a complete history of oceanic mapping from the mid-nineties onwards. She spent hours trying to match up the different readings. There were variations in detail - sometimes a satellite’s radar altimeter would mistake a thick bank of mist for the surface and record a measurement that was disputed elsewhere, but in general the results were the same.
The closer she looked, the more her initial excitement gave way to anxiety.
In the end she was certain that Bauer had been right.
His drifting profilers had transmitted data for only a short time, without seeming to follow the path of any current. Then one after another, the floats had fallen silent. Practically no feedback was available from Bauer’s expedition. She wondered whether he had sensed how right he’d been. She could feel his knowledge weighing on her shoulders. He had entrusted her with his legacy, and now she could read between the lines. She knew enough to grasp that a catastrophe was looming.
She went back through her calculations and checked for mistakes. She repeated the process again and again.
It was worse than she’d feared.
Online
Still in their PVC suits, Johanson, Oliviera, Rubin and Roche stood under the decontamination shower. The vapour from the solution of 1.5 per cent peracetic acid was guaranteed to obliterate every last trace of any lurking biological agent. Once the caustic fluid had been washed away with water and neutralised with sodium hydroxide, the scientists were permitted to leave the sealed chamber.
Shankar and his team were working round the clock in an attempt to make sense of the unidentified noises. They’d called in Ford to help them, and were busy playing Scratch and other spectrograms over and over again.
Anawak and Fenwick had gone for a walk and were deep in conversation about possible ways of hijacking an organism’s neural system.
Dr Stanley Frost had turned up in Bohrmann’s suite. His baseball cap was pulled down over his glasses and his massive figure seemed to fill the room. ‘Right, Doc, it’s time we talked,’ he boomed.
He explained his thoughts on the worms - interesting, all in all. He and Bohrmann clicked right away, drank a few beers at lightning speed and came up with a series of disturbing, yet plausible scenarios to add to the list of possible disasters. Now they were conferring via satellite with Kiel. Since the Internet connection had been restored, the Geomar scientists had been sending a steady stream of simulations. Suess had reconstructed events on the Norwegian slope as accurately as possible, leading them all to the conclusion that a catastrophe of such magnitude should never have occurred. The worms and bacteria had certainly had a dire effect on the slope, but something was missing: a tiny piece of the jigsaw, an additional catalyst.
‘And if we don’t find out what it is,’ said Frost, ‘I swear to God that we’ll all be in for an almighty soaking. And it won’t have anything to do with the slope collapsing near America or Japan.’
Li was working on her laptop. Alone in her enormous suite, she was everywhere, with everyone, all at once. She’d watched the scientists work in the containment lab, listening to what they said. Every room in the Chateau was under audio and video surveillance. The same went for Nanaimo, the University of British Columbia and Vancouver Aquarium. Scientists’ homes within a certain radius had also been bugged, including Ford, Oliviera and Fenwick’s flats, the boat that Anawak lived on, and even his apartment in Vancouver. The committee’s eyes and ears were everywhere. Information escaped them only if it was exchanged outside - in the open air or in restaurants and pubs. That irked Li, but there was nothing she could do about it, short of implanting every scientist with a chip.
The intranet surveillance was an unqualified success. Bohrmann and Frost were currently online, as was Karen Weaver, who was analysing satellite data relating to the Gulf Stream. Now, that was interesting, as were the simulations from Kiel. Setting up the network had been an inspired idea. Of course, there was no way of actually seeing or hearing what its users were thinking, but everything they did, every page they consulted, was saved and could be tracked at any time. If Vanderbilt turned out to be right in his terrorism theory, which Li doubted, it would be legitimate to interrogate them all. Ostensibly they were clean. None had links to any extremist organisations or Arab countries, but you could never be too careful. Even if the CIA’s suspicions proved unfounded, it was still useful to be able to peer over the scientists’ shoulders without their knowledge. It was always best to obtain the facts as they emerged.
She switched back to Nanaimo and listened to Johanson and Oliviera, as they headed towards the elevators. They were talking about the safety precautions in the biohazard lab. Oliviera said something about the chemical shower being strong enough to bleach them to the bone and Johanson made a joke. They both laughed and rode up to ground level.
Why didn’t Johanson tell anyone of his theory? He’d almost mentioned it when he was in his suite with Weaver, straight after the presentation, but had lapsed into allusions.
Li made a series of phone calls, spoke to Peak in New York, then looked at her watch. It was time for Vanderbilt’s report. She left her suite and went along the corridor to a secure room on the southern side of the Chateau. It was the equivalent of the War Room in the White House, and was tap-proof, like the conference room. Vanderbilt and two of his team were waiting for her. The CIA chief had only just returned from Nanaimo by helicopter, and was even more dishevelled than usual.
‘Can we get Washington on the line?’ she asked, without bothering to say hello.
‘Well, we could,’ said Vanderbilt, ‘but it wouldn’t do much good—’
‘Cut to the chase, Jack.’
‘If you want to speak to the President, there’s no point in calling Washington. He’s not there.’
Nanaimo, Vancouver Island
As she was leaving the elevator with Johanson, Oliviera ran into Fenwick and Anawak in the foyer. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked, surprised.
‘For a stroll.’ Anawak beamed at her. ‘Been having fun in the lab?’
‘Yeah, right.’ Oliviera grimaced. ‘It looks as though Europe’s problems are washing in our direction. The jelly in the crabs was an old friend of ours. But that’s not all they were carrying. Roche has isolated a biological agent.’
‘Pfiesteria?’ asked Anawak.
‘Not far off,’ said Johanson. ‘It’s a mutation of a mutation, as it were. The new strain is far more toxic than the European variety.’
‘We had to sacrifice a few mice,’ said Oliviera. ‘We shut them in with a dead crab and they died within minutes.’
Fenwick took an involuntary step back. ‘Is the toxin contagious?’
‘Oh, no. Feel free to kiss me, if you like. The poison they produce can’t be passed between humans. We’re not dealing with a virus - it’s essentially a bacteriological invasion. The trouble is, the whole thing spirals out of control once the Pfiesteria get into the water. They keep spreading exponentially, long after the crabs have given up the ghost. All but one was dead on arrival, and now the last one’s gone too.’
‘Kamikaze crabs,’ Anawak muttered.
‘Their job is to get the bacteria to land, just as the worms’ mission was to import it into the ice,’ said Johanson. ‘After that, they perish. Jellyfish, mussels, even the jelly - none of these organisms live long, but they all fulfil their function.’
‘Harming us at all cost.’
‘Absolutely. Even the whales have become suicidal,’ said Fenwick. ‘Aggressive behaviour is normally part of a survival strategy, like flight, but there’s no evidence of it here.’
Johanson smiled. His dark eyes flashed. ‘I’m not so sure about that. I’d say there’s a clear survival strategy at the heart of all this.’
Fenwick stared at him. ‘You’re starting to sound like Vanderbilt.’
‘Actually, no. Vanderbilt’s right in some respects, but fundamentally I don’t agree with him.’ Johanson paused. ‘But before too long, he’ll be sounding like me.’
Li
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ demanded Li, as she sat down. ‘If the President’s not in Washington, where is he?’
‘He’s heading for Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska,’ said Vanderbilt. ‘Swarms of crabs have shown up in Chesapeake Bay and along the Potomac river. They seem to be marching up the estuary. We’ve also had reported sightings near Alexandria and just south of Arlington, but we’re awaiting confirmation.’
‘Who decided on Offutt?’
Vanderbilt shrugged. ‘The White House chief of staff is afraid that Washington’s about to turn into another New York,’ he said. ‘But you know the President. He fought against it tooth and nail. He was all for confronting the crabs and declaring war on the bastards in person. But in the end he agreed to a break in the country.’
Li thought for a moment. Offutt was the home of the United States Strategic Command, the control centre for America’s nuclear weapons. The base was the ideal place to protect the President. It was situated at the heart of the country, out of reach of any danger emerging from the sea. From there the President could communicate with the National Security Council over a secure satellite link and exercise the full powers of government.
‘We can’t afford this kind of sloppiness,’ she said vehemently. ‘For future reference, Jack, I expect to be informed of this kind of thing straight away. If anything so much as sticks its head out of the water anywhere in the world, I want to know.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Vanderbilt. ‘Maybe we can set up some talks with a few local dolphins and—’
‘What’s more, I certainly want to be informed if anyone sends the President anywhere else.’
Vanderbilt smiled jovially. ‘If I could make a suggestion—’
Li cut him off: ‘And I expect you to find out exactly what’s happening in Washington. We need full information within the next two hours. If the reports turn out to be true, we’ll evacuate the affected areas and turn Washington into an exclusion zone, like New York.’
‘Funny you should mention it,’ Vanderbilt said equably, ‘but I was just going to say the same thing.’
‘Good. What else have you got for me?’
‘Shit and more shit,’ he said.
‘I’m used to that.’
‘That’s why I’ve been scraping around for all the bad news I can find. I’d hate for you to have withdrawal symptoms. OK, let’s start with Georges Bank. NOAA was planning to send down two dive robots to scoop up some worms for research purposes. That, um, went fine.’
Li waited for him to continue.
‘Like I said, they collected their sample,’ Vanderbilt was enjoying every word, ‘but they didn’t get it back on board. The worms were already in the bag, so to speak - then something cut the cables. We lost both robots. Same story in Japan. A manned submersible on a worm-collecting mission went missing somewhere between Honshu and Hokkaido and according to the Japanese, the worms are spreading. I think we can safely say that things are stepping up a gear. At first, only divers were being attacked, but now it’s subs, underwater probes and robots.’
‘Any signs of suspicious activity?’
‘Nothing conclusive - no enemy probes or submersibles around at the time. But NOAA’s vessel picked up a sheet of something moving in the water at a depth of seven hundred metres. It extended over several kilometres. Their chief scientist is ninety per cent sure that it was a plankton shoal, but he can’t swear to it.’
Li thought of Johanson. She almost regretted that he wasn’t there to listen.
‘Next up, deep-sea cables. They’re still being destroyed. Of the major transatlantic links, ANTAT-3 and a number of the TAT cables have now gone down. Apparently we’ve also lost PACRIM WEST in the Pacific, one of our main links to Australia. In addition to that, the past two days have seen a proliferation of shipping accidents, all taking place in the busiest shipping lanes. There are two hundred main chokepoints in the world, and roughly half have been affected, in particular the Strait of Gibraltar, the Strait of Malacca and the English Channel. There was trouble in the Panama Canal too and…well, we probably shouldn’t make too much of it, but there’s news of a pile-up in the Strait of Hormuz and in the Khalij as-Suways, which is, um, in…’
Vanderbilt didn’t seem as cynical or arrogant as usual, and now Li knew why. ‘I know where Khalij as-Suways is,’ she said. ‘You mean the Gulf of Suez. It runs between the Red Sea and the Suez Canal. Which means two major Arab shipping hubs have been hit.’
‘Bingo, baby. There were navigation problems. A new variety, incidentally. It’s difficult to reconstruct exactly what happened, but the crash in the Strait of Hormuz involved seven vessels. At least two had no idea where they were going. The speed log and depth sounders had clearly screwed up.’
Four pieces of technology were essential for the safety of any ship: radar, anemometer, depth sounders and speed log. Radar scanning and wind speed measurement took place above the waterline, but the depth sounders opened out on to the keel, as did the speed log, a pitot tube with an integrated sensor that measured the speed of the water. It was basically the ship’s speedometer. While the log provided the ship’s radar system with data on the course and speed of the vessel, the radar calculated the risk of colliding with other objects and came up with alternative routes. Generally speaking, the crew blindly accepted the instruments’ readings - blindly, since 70 per cent of the time it was either dark, foggy or choppy, so there was’nt any view.
‘According to the reports, one craft had marine life clinging to its speed log,’ said Vanderbilt. ‘As far as the log was concerned, the vessel was at a standstill, so the radar failed to register the danger of collision, even though it was surrounded by ships. In the case of the other vessel, the depth sounder started claiming that the depth was diminishing. The water was plenty deep enough, but the crew were convinced they were about to run aground so they began to manoeuvre. Both ships smashed into other vessels, and because it was dark, a few more joined in. Similar antics have been going on all over the world. We’ve even heard claims that whales were swimming beneath the boats in the run-up to the crashes.’
‘Well, that makes sense,’ Li said thoughtfully. ‘If a large object were to block the depth sounder for a significant amount of time, it could easily be mistaken for firm ground.’
‘On top of all that, we’re also seeing more infested rudders and thrusters. Sea-chests are still getting clogged - increasingly effectively. We’ve just had news of an iron-ore freighter sinking off the coast of India - apparently a case of accelerated corrosion, brought on by an infestation that had built up over weeks. The sea was perfectly calm,
but its forehold just caved in. It sank within minutes. And so it goes on. There’s no sign of a let-up. In fact, it’s getting worse. And then you’ve got the toxic plague.’
Li pressed the tips of her fingers together, turning it all over in her mind.
It was ridiculous. But so were ships. Peak was absolutely right. They were outdated steel coffers that used high-tech navigation while slurping cooling water through a hole in the keel. And now crabs were invading twenty-first-century cities, getting mangled by cars and dumping tonnes of toxic algae into the sewers. They’d already had to barricade one city, and it wouldn’t be long before they had to barricade the next. Even the President had been forced to flee inland.
‘We need some more of those worms,’ said Li. ‘And we have to do something about the algae.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Vanderbilt did his best to sound obsequious.
His men were sitting on either side of him, faces expressionless, eyes fixed on Li. Strictly speaking, it was Vanderbilt’s job to come up with a suggestion, but he was no fonder of Li than she was of him. He wasn’t about to help her.
But Li didn’t need Vanderbilt to come to a decision. ‘First,’ she said, ‘as soon as we know if those reports are true, we’re going to evacuate Washington. Second, I want tankers filled with drinking water to be sent to the affected areas. Supplies will be strictly rationed. We’ll drain the pipes and burn those bugs with chemicals.’
Vanderbilt laughed. His men started grinning. ‘Drain the pipes? Stop New York’s drinking water?’
‘Yes.’
‘Great idea. Once we’ve killed the New Yorkers with chemicals, we can put the city up for rent. Maybe the Chinese would be interested? I heard they might be running out of space.’
‘I don’t care how you do it, Jack - I’ll leave that up to you. I’m going to ask the President to call a plenary meeting of the Security Council so we can declare a state of emergency.’