The Swarm (105 page)

‘You could say that.' Anawak paused. ‘How's it shaping up?'

‘Fine. I solved your problem.' He said it almost casually.

‘Problem?'

‘The one you and Karen were working on. Memory via mutating DNA. Well, you were right. It's possible, and I've found out how.'

Anawak stared at him incredulously. ‘I can't believe you're not jumping up and down.'

‘I'd turn a few cartwheels if I had enough energy. But you're right: we should celebrate.'

‘Well, aren't you going to tell me how it works?'

‘You remember those hypervariable segments? They're clusters. The genome is covered with clusters that code different proteins. They're…Does this mean anything to you?'

‘You'll have to help me out a little.'

‘Clusters are a sub-class of gene. They're genes that take care of a particular function, like producing certain substances or coding receptors. If a section of DNA contains a high concentration of genes that serve the same function, you get a cluster. The yrr-genome has masses of them. And this is where it gets interesting: the yrr-cells
are
repairing themselves, but the repair process
doesn't
occur globally across the whole genome. The enzymes don't scan the DNA from top to bottom for mistakes, they react to specific signals. They're a bit like trains. If the signal tells them to go, they start the repair mechanism. But if the signal says stop, they don't go any further because otherwise they'd run into—'

‘The clusters.'

‘Right. And the clusters are protected.'

‘You mean the yrr are able to shield part of their genome to stop it being repaired?'

‘Exactly. They've got repair inhibitors - biological bouncers, if you like - which protect the clusters from repair enzymes. So, in the course of the repairs, the core genetic information is preserved, while other sequences are free to mutate continuously. Impressive, eh? Each yrr is an ever-evolving brain.'

‘But how do they communicate?'

‘Like Sue said, from cell to cell. Via ligands and receptors. The ligand - the signal transmitted from the other cells—reaches a receptor and sets off a chemical cascade towards the nucleus. The genome then mutates and passes on the signal to the surrounding cells. It happens almost instantaneously. That pile of jelly is thinking at the speed of a superconductor.'

Anawak gave a low whistle. ‘So it's a brand new biochemical set-up.'

‘Or a very old one. It may be new to us, but it's probably been around for millions of years. Maybe as long as life itself It's a different evolutionary system running parallel to our own.' Johanson gave a short laugh. ‘And it's highly effective.'

Anawak rested his chin on his hands. ‘So, what now?'

‘Good question. I don't think I've ever felt so directionless. I've got all this information and I don't know what to do with it. Right now it just confirms our fears - we've got almost nothing in common with the yrr.' He stretched and yawned. ‘Who knows whether Crowe's attempts at communication will pay off? Seems to me that they're happy to chat to us while merrily plotting our doom. Maybe they don't see that as a contradiction. Either way, it's not my idea of conversation.'

‘We've got no choice. We have to find a way of making ourselves understood.' Anawak sucked in his cheeks. ‘And while we're on the subject - do you think we're all pulling together?'

Johanson stiffened. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘Well…' Anawak frowned. ‘OK, don't be mad at her, but Karen told me what you saw - or what you thought you saw - the night of your mysterious accident.'

Johanson gave him a hard look. ‘And what does she think?'

‘That you did see Rubin.'

‘I thought so. And you?'

‘I don't know.' Anawak shrugged. You're Norwegian. You guys believe in trolls.'

Johanson sighed. ‘If it hadn't been for Sue, none of this would ever have come back to me,' he said. ‘She jogged my memory. That night when we were sitting on the hangar deck, I thought I saw Rubin, even though he was supposed to be in bed with a migraine. Just like he's supposed to have a migraine now. Ever since then, bits and pieces have been coming back to me. I'm starting to remember things - things I can't have made up. Sometimes it feels as though I'm on the verge of seeing everything, and then…I'm standing in front of an open door, looking into the light. I step inside - and it all goes black.'

‘What makes you think you didn't dream it?'

‘Sue.'

‘But she didn't see anything.'

‘And Li.'

‘Why Li?'

‘We were chatting at the party and she was a bit too concerned about the state of my memory. I got the feeling she was trying to gauge how much I knew.' Johanson looked at Anawak. ‘You wanted my opinion. Well, I don't think we're pulling together. I never have done, not even in Whistler. There's always been something funny about Li, but now there's Rubin and his migraines too. I don't know what to make of it, but something tells me it doesn't add up.'

‘Male intuition…' Anawak grinned nervously. ‘So, what does Li want from us?'

Johanson glanced at the ceiling. ‘You'd have to ask her.'

Control Room

At that moment Johanson was looking straight into Vanderbilt's eyes through one of the hidden cameras, although he didn't know it. The CIA agent had taken over from Li at the desk. He heard Johanson say, ‘You'd have to ask her.'

‘Smart bastard,' Vanderbilt murmured. Li was in her cabin. He called her on a secure line.

She appeared on the screen.

‘I told you those drugs were a risk,' said Vanderbilt. ‘Johanson's recovering his memory.'

‘So what?'

‘Aren't you worried?'

Li gave a thin smile. ‘Rubin's been working very hard. He was here just now.'

‘And?'

‘It's brilliant!' There was a glint in her eyes. ‘I know we're not particularly fond of the shit, but I have to say he's excelled himself.'

‘Has he trialled the stuff?'

‘On a small scale. But the scale doesn't matter: it works. In a few hours I'm going to call the President. Then I'll take Rubin for a dive.'

‘You want to do it in person?' exclaimed Vanderbilt.

‘Well, there's no way
you
're going to fit inside a boat like that,' said Li, and hung up.

Well Deck

The electrical systems filled the
Independence
's empty hangars and decks with an eerie buzz, causing the bulkheads to quiver imperceptibly. They could be heard in the hospital and the deserted officers' mess, and anyone pressing their fingertips to the lockers in the troop-berthing area could feel their faint vibration.

They even penetrated into the bowels of the vessel, where Greywolf was lying near the edge of the embankment, staring at the steel girders on the ceiling. He felt overwhelmed with grief and the conviction that he had done everything wrong. He hadn't even been able to save Licia. He'd tried to protect her and failed.

The only time when he'd ever been truly proud of himself was when he'd rescued that kid. He'd done a good job on the
Lady Wexham
. He'd helped a crowd of people, and he'd won back Leon as a friend. A photographer had taken a picture, and the next day the newspaper had immortalised the moment.

But the whales were still rampaging, the dolphins were suffering, nature was in agony - and Licia was dead.

Greywolf felt empty and useless. He wasn't going to talk to anyone about it: he was just going to do his job until the nightmare was over.

And then…

Tears welled in his eyes.

The Big Picture

‘See this sphere?' said Crowe. ‘That's planet Earth.' She'd blown up some printouts and pinned them to the wall. She walked slowly down the line. ‘These markings baffled us at first, but now we think they're the Earth's magnetic field. The blank spaces are definitely continents. Once we'd worked that out, we'd basically cracked it.'

Li frowned. ‘Are you sure? Those so-called continents don't look much like the continents I know.'

Crowe smiled. ‘They're not supposed to. They're the continents a hundred and eighty million years ago. Just one big land mass - Pangaea, the supercontinent. The lines probably correspond to the magnetic field back then.'

‘Have you checked that out?'

‘It's difficult to reconstruct the field lines, but the configuration of the continents is easily verified. At first we didn't know what they'd sent us, but once we realised it was a map of the world it all fell into place. It's actually quite straightforward. They used water as the baseline for the message, and paired each water molecule with geographical data.'

‘But how would they know what the Earth looked like all that time ago?' Vanderbilt said.

‘They remember it,' said Johanson.

‘But no one can remember the prehistoric era. Only single-cell organisms—' Vanderbilt broke off.

‘Exactly,' said Johanson. ‘Only single-cell organisms and the first multicellular life-forms. Last night the final piece of the jigsaw fell into place. The yrr have hypermutating DNA. Let's say they gained consciousness at the beginning of the Jurassic era. That's two hundred million years ago, and they've been storing knowledge ever since. You know the classic lines you get in sci-fi?
Whatever it is, it's coming our way
, or
Get me the President on the line
? Well, there's always the one about the enemy being superior, though by the end of the story you mostly feel cheated. This time you won't. The yrr
are
superior.'

‘Because their DNA stores knowledge?' asked Li.

‘Right. That's the crucial difference. Humans aren't endowed with genetic memory. For our culture to survive, we need words, written accounts and pictures. We can't transmit experience directly. When our body dies, our mind goes with it. We talk about not forgetting the lessons of the past but we're kidding ourselves. To forget something you have to be able to remember it. None of us can remember the experience of earlier generations. We can record and refer to other people's memories, but it doesn't alter the fact that
we weren't there
. Every newborn baby starts from scratch. Each of us has to touch the stove to find out that it's hot. Things are very different for the yrr. One cell absorbs information, then divides into two - it duplicates its genome, complete with all the information stored on it. It's like us being able to duplicate our brain and all our memories with it. New cells don't inherit abstract knowledge - they get real experience, as though they'd been there themselves. Ever since the very first yrr came into being, they've had collective memory.' Johanson turned to Li. ‘So, do you see what we're up against?'

Li nodded slowly. ‘The only way we could rob the yrr of their knowledge is by destroying entire collectives.'

‘Entire collectives probably wouldn't be enough: you'd have to kill every last one of them,' said Johanson. ‘And there are plenty of reasons why you can't do that. For one thing, we don't know how dense their networks are. Their cellular chains might stretch hundreds of kilometres. We're outnumbered. And they're not like humans - they don't just live in the present. They don't need statistics, averages or any other intellectual crutch. Taken together they're their own statistics, the sum of all parts, their own history. They're able to survey developments spanning thousands of years. We don't even manage to act for the good of our children and grandchildren. We repress memory. The yrr compare, analyse, diagnose, predict and act on the strength of their ever-present memory. Nothing ever gets lost, not even the smallest innovation. Everything feeds into the development of new strategies and ideas. It's an infinite process of selection towards the perfect solution. They compare back, modify, refine, learn from their mistakes, adapt, make their projections - and act.'

‘Cold-blooded little beasts,' said Vanderbilt.

‘Do you think so?' Li shook her head. ‘I admire them. Within minutes they produce strategies that would keep us busy for years. Even just knowing exactly what
won't
work! Then knowing it because it's part of your memory, because you were the one who messed up in the first place - even though you weren't physically present…'

‘And that's why the yrr probably get along better in their habitat than we do in ours,' said Johanson. ‘For the yrr every thought process is collective and embedded in the genes. They inhabit every era simultaneously. Humans don't have a clear view of the past and they don't pay attention to the future. Our whole existence centres on the individual, the here and now. We're too busy pursuing our own personal goals to worry about higher knowledge. We know we can't exist beyond death, so we try to leave our legacy in manifestos, books and music. We're intent on making sure our names aren't forgotten. We try to leave a record of ourselves to be passed on, misinterpreted, falsified and used for ideological purposes long after we're dead. We're so obsessed with assuring our own perpetuity that our goals seldom coincide with what would be good for humankind. Our minds champion the aesthetic, the individual, the intellectual and the abstract. We're determined not to be animals. On the one hand our body is
our temple, but on the other we despise it for being mere machinery. We've become accustomed to valuing mind over body. We feel nothing but contempt for the factors relating to our physical survival.'

‘But for the yrr this division doesn't exist,' Li mused. For some reason the thought seemed to please her. ‘Body
is
mind, and mind
is
body. No yrr would ever do anything that runs counter to the interests of the collective. Survival matters for the species, not the individual, and action is always a collective decision. Fantastic! The yrr don't give prizes for good ideas. Being able to take part in their implementation is all the fame a yrr could wish for. The question is, do the individual amoebas have an individual consciousness?'