The Swarm (19 page)

Somehow Anawak knew they had nothing to fear from the new arrivals. In fact, the two greys had scared off their attackers. There was no telling how long the peace would last, but the unexpected turn of events gave them some breathing space. Even Shoemaker had stopped panicking. He guided the Zodiac confidently under the railings. An enormous wave surged towards them and they shot upwards.

‘Jump!' Anawak shouted. ‘Now!'

The
Devilfish
rose on the swell and sank back down. The people on the railings leaped after it, crashing one on top of another, amid screams of pain. Some landed in the water, but were soon fished out. Eventually everyone was aboard.

It was time to make their getaway.

But not everyone had jumped. Crouched behind the railings a boy was crying, face buried in his hands.

‘Jump!' shouted Anawak. He held out his arms. ‘There's no need to be afraid.'

Greywolf joined him. ‘When the next wave comes, I'll fetch him.'

Anawak glanced over his shoulder. An enormous wall of water was heading straight for them. ‘That might be sooner than you think,' he said.

The two grey whales sank below the surface. The sea around the
Lady
gurgled and foamed, then the bridge disappeared in a whirlpool of water. Her stern rose into the air and the
Lady Wexham
slid bow first into the depths.

‘Get closer!' shouted Greywolf.

Somehow Shoemaker obliged. The
Devilfish
's bow struck the
Lady
's deck as she sank, with the boy still clutching the railings. Greywolf shoved his way to the stern, but a wave hit the Zodiac and a veil of frothy water billowed over the rails. As Greywolf leaned out to grab the boy, the
Devilfish
tipped, he lost his balance and crashed to the deck, but he didn't let go. His arms supported the boy like two firm tree-trunks. His bear-like hands were locked around his waist. Then the
Lady Wexham
vanished into the depths.

Shoemaker thrust the throttle forward. The waves rolling in from the Pacific were long and regular. They wouldn't pose a risk to the overcrowded Zodiac, providing that her skipper was careful. But Shoemaker had recovered his cool. The Zodiac shot over the crest of a wave, sank down the other side and headed for the coast.

Anawak glanced back at MS
Arctic
. The second motorboat was nowhere to be seen. A fluke plunged into the water, waving in what seemed to be a mocking farewell. A humpback…He would never see another whale's tail without a sense of foreboding.

A few minutes later they passed the narrow strip of land that separated the open water from the lagoon.

 

The boat pulled up at the jetty, crammed with people. In the moments following their return, the sight of the unscathed
Devilfish
was Davie's only comfort. They read out the names of the missing. People collapsed in shock. Then the crowd dispersed. The Zodiac's passengers nearly all had hypothermia. Most were taken away by friends or family to be treated at the nearest clinic. Some had sustained more serious injuries, but no one could say when the helicopter would arrive to take them to Victoria. The radio was still jammed with reports of new horrors.

Davie had been forced to endure hostile questioning, accusations and defamation. Physical violence was threatened if the passengers didn't return. Roddy Walker, Stringer's boyfriend, had put in an appearance, telling everyone in earshot that they'd be hearing from his lawyer. Yet no
one was trying to establish who was really to blame. The idea that whales might attack unprovoked was rejected out of hand. They were placid creatures - like people, but nicer. The surviving tourists rounded on Davie and his skippers, as though they were responsible for first-degree murder. According to their accusers, they were irresponsible, took unnecessary risks and went to sea in battered old boats. It was true that the
Lady
had seen several seasons, but she didn't deserve to be posthumously maligned. No one was prepared to listen.

At least her crew and the majority of the passengers were escorted home safely. Most remembered to thank Shoemaker and Anawak, but Greywolf was hailed as the hero of the hour. He was everywhere at once, talking, listening, organising and offering to take people to the clinic. He was trying so hard to be a Samaritan that Anawak felt sick.

Greywolf had risked his life; there was no doubt about it. And, of course, they were right to thank him - on their knees, if he insisted. But Anawak didn't feel like it. This sudden burst of altruism seemed deeply suspect. He was sure that Greywolf's efforts to help the
Lady Wexham
hadn't been as selfless as they seemed. It had been a hugely successful day for Jack O'Bannon. He was the one they'd listened to and trusted. He'd always said that whale-watching would end in a disaster - well, if only they'd listened…And now this! Soon people would attest to his clear-sighted prescience. He couldn't have hoped for a better platform.

Furiously, Anawak paced up and down the empty office. They
had
to find out why the whales had behaved like that. Suddenly he remembered the
Barrier Queen
. Roberts had been going to send him that report. Now he needed it urgently. He went to the phone, dialled the operator and asked to be connected to the shipping line.

Roberts's secretary answered. Her boss was in a meeting and couldn't be disturbed. Anawak mentioned his involvement with the
Barrier Queen
, and intimated to her that his business was urgent. The meeting was even more so, she assured him. Yes, she'd heard about the catastrophic events of the past few hours. Full of motherly concern for his welfare, she commiserated sympathetically - but refused point-blank to put Roberts on the line. Would he like to leave a message?

Anawak hesitated. Roberts had said the report was confidential. He didn't want to get the MD into trouble. Maybe he shouldn't mention it. Then he had an idea. ‘It's about the infestation on the
Barrier Queen
's
bow,' he said. ‘There were mussels and some other organic material stuck there. We sent some to the institute in Nanaimo. They need fresh stock.'

‘Fresh stock?'

‘Fresh samples. I suppose you've checked every inch of the vessel by now?'

‘Of course,' she said, a strange undercurrent in her voice.

‘And where is she now?'

‘Still docked.' She paused. ‘I'll tell Mr Roberts it's urgent. Where should we send the samples?'

‘To the institute in Nanaimo for the attention of Dr Sue Oliviera. Thanks for your help.'

‘Mr Roberts will be in touch directly.' The line went dead. He'd been fobbed off.

What was going on?

His knees started to tremble. He felt exhausted and despondent. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Alicia Delaware was in front of him.

‘What are you doing here?' he asked tersely.

She shrugged. ‘I'm fine. There's no need for me to see a doctor.'

‘Oh, yes, there is. You were in that water, and the water here is darned cold. Now, run along to the clinic before anyone decides to blame us for your frozen intestines too.'

‘Hey!' She glared at him. ‘None of this is my fault, OK?'

Anawak straightened up from the counter and walked to the window at the rear of the office. The
Devilfish
was moored outside as though nothing had happened. It was drizzling lightly.

‘What was all that rubbish you told me about leaving the island?' he said. ‘I broke the rules to take you with me. I only did it because you gave me that sob story.'

‘I…' She faltered. ‘I…Well, I really wanted to go. Are you mad at me?'

Anawak turned to her. ‘I can't stand being lied to.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Well, why don't you go away and let me get on with my work, then? Run along to Greywolf. He'll take care of you.'

‘For God's sake, Leon.' She took a step forward, and he drew back. ‘I wanted to go on your tour, that's all. I'm sorry I lied to you. The truth is, I'm here for another few weeks, and I don't come from Chicago. I'm at
the University of British Columbia, studying biology. What's the big deal? I thought you'd find it funny—'

‘So that's your idea of a joke? What's so funny about someone taking advantage of me?' He was losing control, but he couldn't stop shouting, even though he knew she was right. None of it was her fault.

Delaware flinched. ‘Leon—'

‘Why can't you just leave me alone, Licia?'

He expected her to go, but she didn't. She just stood in front of him. Suddenly Anawak felt dazed. The office was spinning, and he thought briefly that his legs were about to buckle. Then his mind cleared and he saw that she was holding something.

‘What's that?' he growled.

‘A camcorder.' She handed it to him.

It was a top-of-the-range Sony handycam, encased in underwater housing to protect it from splashes.

‘Well?' he said.

Delaware made a despairing gesture. ‘I thought you wanted to find out why it happened.'

‘And you'd know all about that, I suppose.'

‘There's no need to take your anger out on me, Leon!' she retorted. ‘A few hours ago I nearly died out there. I could be sitting in a clinic, crying, but I'm not. I'm here and I'm trying to help. So, are you going to listen to me or not?'

Anawak took a deep breath. ‘OK.'

‘Did you get a good look at the whales that rammed the
Lady Wexham?

‘Sure. They were greys and hump—'

‘No.' Delaware shook her head impatiently. ‘Not the species. The actual whales. Were you able to identify them?'

‘It happened too fast.'

She smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but it was a smile all the same. ‘Remember the woman we pulled out of the water? I knew her from the
Blue Shark
. She's in shock. She doesn't know what's happening. But when I want something, I don't give up.'

‘Don't I know it.'

‘I saw the camera hanging round her neck. It was strapped on tightly, which was why she hadn't lost it in the water. Anyway, when you went out the second time, I talked to her and she'd filmed the whole thing. She was filming when Greywolf arrived. And as far as I remember, from
where we were positioned, the
Lady Wexham
was behind Greywolfs boat.'

Suddenly Anawak saw what she was getting at.

‘She filmed the attack,' he said.

‘She filmed the
individual whales
. I don't know how expert you really are at identifying them but you live around here and you know them. And with a camcorder you can take as long as you like.'

‘I suppose you forgot to ask her whether you could keep the camera?' asked Anawak.

She stuck out her chin defiantly. ‘What of it?'

He twisted the camera in his hands. ‘All right. I'll take a look.'

‘
We'll
take a look,' said Delaware. ‘I don't want to be left out. And don't even think of asking me why. It's the least I'm entitled to, all right?'

Anawak was dumbstruck.

‘And besides,' she said, ‘it's about time you started being nice to me.'

He exhaled slowly, pursing his lips. He had to admit that Delaware's idea was the best lead they had. ‘I'll give it a go,' he murmured.

Trondheim, Norway

The summons came as Johanson was preparing to drive out to the lake. On his return from Kiel he'd contacted Tina Lund to tell her about the experiment in the deep-sea simulation chamber. They hadn't talked for long: Lund was up to her ears in work, and spent every spare second with Kare Sverdrup. Johanson had had the impression that her mind was elsewhere, but whatever was bothering her didn't seem to relate to her job, so he didn't ask questions.

A few days later Bohrmann called with the latest on the worms. The scientists in Kiel had been running more tests. Johanson had already packed his suitcase and was about to leave the house when he decided to call Lund and tell her the news. She seemed more focused now and jumped in before he could begin. ‘Why don't you pay us a visit?' she suggested.

‘At Marintek?'

‘No, at the Statoil research centre. The project-management team is here from Stavanger.'

‘Do you want me to regale them with stories of sinister creepy-crawlies?'

‘I've already done that. Now they want details so I said I'd ask you.'

‘Why me?'

‘Why not?'

‘Because you've got all the documentation,' said Johanson. ‘Reams of it. All I can do is pass on what other people have told me.'

‘You can do more than that,' said Lund. ‘You can give them your personal opinion.'

Johanson was too surprised to answer.

‘They know you're not an expert on wellheads or even worms, for that matter,' she said, ‘but you've got a fantastic reputation at the NTNU and you can judge things impartially. At Statoil we're coming at this business from a different perspective.'

‘You mean you're only interested in whether it's viable.'

‘There are other factors! Look, the trouble is, we've got a bunch of people here, all acknowledged experts in something but—'

‘They don't have the first clue about anything else.'

‘That's not true!' She sounded put out. ‘They're all extremely capable - they wouldn't be here otherwise. But we're too involved in it all, too bogged down. Christ, how else do you want me to put it? We just need some outside opinions, that's all.'

‘But I hardly know anything about oil.'

‘No one's forcing you.' Lund sounded annoyed now. ‘If you're not interested, forget it.'

Johanson rolled his eyes. ‘OK, OK. I don't want to leave you in the lurch - and in any case, there's some new data from Kiel and—'

‘Can I take that as a yes, then?'

‘Jesus, Tina! So, when is this meeting?'

‘There's a whole row of them coming up. Every day is just one long meeting.'

‘Fine. It's Friday today. I'll be away at the weekend, but Monday would be—'

‘That's…' She checked herself. ‘That would actually be…'

‘What?' Johanson prompted her. He had a nasty feeling about this.

‘Got something nice planned for the weekend?' she asked conversationally. ‘Another trip to the lake?'

‘Well guessed. Do you want to come too?'

She laughed. ‘Why not?'

‘I see. And what would Kare have to say about that?'

‘Who cares? It's none of his business.' She paused. ‘Oh, hell.'

‘If only you were as good at everything else as you are at your job,' said Johanson, so softly that he wasn't sure she'd heard.

‘Please, Sigur. Can't you set off a bit later? We're meeting in two hours, and I thought…Well, it's not far for you to come and it won't take long. We'll be finished in no time. You can go to the lake this evening.'

‘I—'

‘We really need to make progress. We've got a schedule to stick to, and you know how much these things cost. Now we're slipping behind and all because…'

‘I said I'd do it, all right?'

‘You're a honey.'

‘Do you want me to pick you up on the way?'

‘I'll be there already. You've made my day, Sigur. Thank you.' She hung up.

Johanson looked at his suitcase wistfully.

 

As Johanson was ushered into the conference hall at the Statoil research centre, the tension was almost tangible. Lund was sitting with three men at a huge table. Late-afternoon sunshine seeped into the room, lending warmth to the glass, chrome and dark-wood furnishings. The walls were lined with blow-ups of diagrams and technical drawings.

‘Here he is,' said the woman who had brought Johanson from reception, and a man rose to greet him. He had close-cut dark hair and was wearing designer glasses.

‘Thor Hvistendahl, deputy director of the Statoil research centre,' he introduced himself. ‘I apologise for encroaching on your time at such late notice. Tina assures us that we're not disrupting your plans.'

Johanson shot Lund an eloquent look, then shook Hvistendahl's hand. ‘No problem,' he said. ‘I was free this afternoon.'

Lund suppressed a smile. She introduced him to the other men. One was from the Statoil headquarters in Stavanger - a burly man with red hair and friendly blue eyes. He was a member of the executive committee, and was there to represent the management board. ‘Finn Skaugen,' he boomed.

The third, a bald man with heavy jowls and the only one wearing a tie, turned out to be Lund's immediate superior, Clifford Stone. He came from Scotland, and was head of the exploration and production unit in charge of the new project. He gave Johanson a distant nod. He didn't seem overjoyed at the biologist's arrival but, then, nothing about him suggested that he ever smiled.

Johanson exchanged a few pleasantries, declined the offer of coffee and took a seat.

Hvistendahl picked up a stack of papers. ‘Let's get straight to business. You're familiar with the situation. We're having difficulty gauging whether the whole thing spells trouble or whether we're overreacting. I imagine you're aware of some of the regulations governing the oil industry?'

‘The North Sea Conference,' Johanson said, guessing.

Hvistendahl nodded. ‘That's one side of it. But we're also subject to other pressures - laws for the protection of the environment, technological limitations and, of course, public opinion, which sets the tone on many of the unregulated issues. When it comes down to it, we have to take account of anything and everything. We've got Greenpeace and a host of other organisations breathing down our necks - and we don't have a problem with that. We know the risks involved in drilling new boreholes, and what to expect when we're planning a new project, so we factor in plenty of time.'

‘In other words, we're pretty good at handling things ourselves,' Stone interjected.

‘Generally speaking, yes,' said Hvistendahl. ‘Not every project makes it to completion, though. There are all the usual reasons - like finding out that the sediment is unstable, that we're in danger of drilling through a gas pocket or even that the water depth and current don't lend themselves to certain types of platform, you know the sort of thing - but in most cases we realise fairly early on what we can and can't do. Tina tests the technology at Marintek, we analyse lots of different samples, check out the conditions down there, get an expert opinion, then start building.'

Johanson crossed one leg over the other. ‘But this time there's a worm in the system,' he said.

Hvistendahl laughed uneasily. ‘You could say that.'

‘Assuming they're relevant,' said Stone, ‘which, in my opinion, they're not.'

‘What makes you so sure?'

‘Worms are nothing unusual. We find them everywhere.'

‘Not this species.'

‘What makes them so special? Sure, they eat hydrates,' he glared at Johanson, ‘but if I remember rightly, your friends in Kiel said that wasn't anything to get worked up about. Or have I missed something?'

‘That's not quite what they said. They said—'

‘The worms can't destabilise the ice.'

‘They're eroding it.'

‘Yes, but they can't destabilise it!'

Skaugen cleared his throat. It sounded like a minor explosion. ‘We called in Dr Johanson so that we could listen to what he has to say,' he said, glancing at Stone, ‘not to tell him what we think.'

Stone bit his lip and stared at the table.

‘You mentioned some new data, didn't you, Sigur?' said Lund. She smiled encouragingly at the others.

‘I'll run you through it now,' he offered.

‘Bloody worms,' grumbled Stone.

‘Well, that's one way of describing them. Anyway, the scientists at Geomar introduced six further specimens into the simulation chamber. Each burrowed head-first into the ice. Next they placed two fresh specimens on a layer of sediment without any hydrates. They didn't react - didn't eat, didn't burrow. Finally they put two specimens on a layer of hydrate-free sediment above a pocket of gas. The worms didn't burrow, but they became agitated.'

‘What happened to the worms that burrowed?'

‘They're dead.'

‘How far did they get?'

‘All except one made it through to the gas,' Johanson glanced at Stone, ‘but that doesn't mean we can draw any hard and fast conclusions about their behaviour in the wild. The gas on the continental slopes is covered by layers of hydrates measuring tens or even hundreds of metres thick. The layers in the simulator are barely two metres. According to Bohrmann, it's unlikely that the worms could go deeper than three or four metres, but in the chamber there's no way of knowing.'

‘What kills them?' asked Hvistendahl.

‘They need oxygen and can't get enough in the narrow hole they make.'

‘But other worms burrow,' objected Skaugen. He grinned. ‘You can tell we did our homework before you got here. We didn't want to look completely stupid.'

Johanson smiled back. He knew he could get on with Skaugen. ‘Other species burrow in sediments,' he said, ‘in loose ones, where there's plenty of oxygen - and most worms don't dig very deep. But burrowing in hydrates is like moving through concrete. Before long, there's no air, which leads to suffocation.'

‘Do you know of other creatures that behave like that?'

‘You mean creatures with a death wish?'

‘Is that what it is?'

Johanson shrugged. ‘That would assume intent, which doesn't fit with worms. They're conditioned to behave as they do.'

‘Do animals commit suicide?'

‘Of course they do,' said Stone. ‘What about lemmings? They throw themselves off cliffs.'

‘No, they don't,' said Lund.

‘They do!'

Lund placed her hand on his arm. ‘Clifford, you're comparing apples and oranges. People liked the idea of lemmings committing suicide so they took it for granted that they did. But when someone looked into it properly, they found out that lemmings are just stupid.'

‘Stupid?' Stone turned to Johanson. ‘Tell me, Dr Johanson, is it normal scientific practice to call an animal stupid?'

‘They are,' Lund continued, unabashed. ‘When you get enough of them together, people can be stupid too. The lemmings at the front know that there's a cliff ahead, but the mob behind them surges on, pushing them forward - it's like fans at a rock concert. They carry on shoving each other into the sea until the procession eventually halts.'

Hvistendahl said, ‘Some animals are known to sacrifice themselves, though. I guess you'd call it altruism.'

‘Yes, but animal altruism always serves a purpose,' replied Johanson. ‘Bees are prepared to die after losing their sting because warding off an intruder is good for the colony - or, at any rate, for the queen.'

‘So there's no species-related motive for the worms' behaviour?'

‘No.'

‘Biology lessons aren't going to help.' Stone sighed. ‘Just listen to you all! Soon we won't be able to build the unit because you'll have turned the worms into monsters.'

‘And another thing,' said Johanson, ignoring him, ‘Geomar would like to take a look at the area you've marked for exploration. With Statoil's backing, of course.'

‘That's interesting.' Skaugen leaned forward. ‘Are they proposing to send someone over?'

‘A research vessel. The RV
Sonne
.'

‘That's kind, but they can do all their research on the
Thorvaldson
.'

‘They'll be stopping off on their way to another site. And, in any case, the
Sonne
has all the latest equipment. They're mainly interested in testing some of the data they got from the simulator.'

‘What kind of data?'

‘It relates to an increase in methane levels. By burrowing into the ice,
the worms set free small quantities of methane, which disperse into the water. The Geomar scientists would like to excavate a couple of loads of sediment with some worms. They want to look at things in their true proportions.'

Skaugen laced his fingers together. ‘So far we've only talked about the worms,' he said, ‘but have you seen the ominous video footage?'

‘Of the thing in the sea?'

Skaugen smiled wanly. ‘You make it sound like a horror movie. What do you think it might be?'

‘I'm not sure whether we should bracket the worms and this…this creature together.'

‘But you know what it is?'

‘No idea.'

‘You're a biologist. Isn't there anything you can think of?'

‘The images Tina extracted from the footage would suggest that the creature is bioluminescent, but there aren't any big creatures that would fit that description. And it rules out mammals
per se
.'

‘Tina mentioned the possibility that we might be dealing with a giant squid.'

‘Yes,' said Johanson, ‘but it's unlikely. The size and structure of the body don't look right. And, anyway,
Architheuthis
has always been thought to inhabit entirely different waters.'