Frank Schatzing - The Swarm

'It's too soon.'

'We don't have much time, Sigur.'

Johanson shook his head. 'People like Li and Vanderbilt need convincing. They want hard facts, not conjecture.'

'We've got hard facts!'

'The timing was all wrong. Today was their moment of glory. They'd put together all that information and turned it into an all-singing, all-dancing catastrophe fest. Vanderhilt had the chance to pull his big fat Arabian rabbit out of the hat, and did you see him? He was proud of it, for God's sake. If I'd said anything it would have sounded like a challenge. I want them to start doubting their neat little theory of their own accord and that'll happen sooner than you think.'

'OK.' Weaver nodded. 'How certain are you?'

'Of my theory?'

'I mean, you are still certain, aren't you?'

'Sure. But after today we're going to have to find a way of convincing the American intelligence service that it's wrong.' Johanson looked at his screen. 'In any case, I get the feeling Vanderbilt's not that important. Li's the one we need to work on. From what I've seen, I bet she does what she wants, regardless.'

LI

Her first priority was to get on the treadmill. She set the speed to nine kilometres per hour, and settled into a comfortable trot. It was time to call the White House. Two minutes later the voice of the President sounded in her headphones. 'Jude! Good to hear from you. How're you doing?'

'I'm running right now.'

'You're running. Good Lord, Jude, you're the best. You're an example to us all – except me, of course.' He gave a chummy guffaw. 'You're too sporty for my liking. Well, did the presentation go to plan?'

'Absolutely.'

'And did you tell them our suspicions?'

'Regrettably, sir, they're now aware of what Vanderhilt suspects.'

The President was still chuckling. 'Oh, Jude, you've got to stop this vendetta against Vanderhilt.'

'He's an asshole.'

'But he's good at his job. Besides, I'm not asking you to marry him.'

'If it made America safer,' Li said irritably, 'I'd marry him right away. But nothing could induce me to agree with him.'

'Of course not.'

'I mean, would you have picked today to start parading your suspicions? There's no evidence yet for the terrorism hypothesis, and now it's at the forefront of their minds. We wanted the scientists to come up with a theory, not go chasing after one.'

There was silence. Li could hear the President thinking it over. He didn't like people taking matters into their own hands, and Vanderhilt had done just that.

'You're right, Jude. It would have been better to keep it to ourselves.'

'I quite agree, sir.'

'Good. Have a word with him about it.'

'Oh, no, sir, you should have a word with him. He won't listen to me.'

'Fine. I'll talk to him later, then.'

Li smiled to herself. 'Listen, er, I don't want Jack getting into trouble…' she added dutifully.

'Sure. No problem. But enough about him. Tell me about your scholarly panopticon. Are the scientists up to the job? Any thoughts so far?'

'They're all highly qualified.'

'Does anyone stand out?'

'A Norwegian. Sigur Johanson. He's a molecular biologist – marine science, of course. I'm not sure what's so special about him, but he's got his own way of looking at things.'

The President called to someone in the room. Li upped the speed on the treadmill.

'I spoke to the Norwegian foreign minister earlier,' he said. 'They're at their wits' end. I mean, they're pleased about the EU initiative, but it seems to me that they'd be a good deal happier if the US came on board. The Germans think the same – they want to pool our know-how and so on. They're calling for an international commission with a proper mandate that would unite our capabilities.'

'Who do they have in mind to run it?'

'A UN-led committee, according to the German chancellor.'

'Uh-huh. I see…'

'Not a bad idea, I thought.'

'Oh, it's a good one.' Li paused. 'Only didn't you say recently that the UN had never had such an ineffectual secretary general as the present incumbent? It was at that embassy reception three weeks ago, and then we came under fire from all the usual corners. Do you remember?'

'Hell, yes. They were so darned pompous about it. Well, I can't help it if he's a pussy. It's just the truth. But what's your point, Jude?'

'I was just saying.'

'Come on, out with it! What's the alternative?'

'You mean the alternative to being led by a committee including dozens of Middle Eastern delegates?'

The President went quiet. 'I guess we could lead it,' he said in the end.

Li waited before she spoke, as though she needed time to think. 'That's an excellent idea, sir.'

'But then we get lumbered with the whole world's problems – again . Sickening, isn't it?'

'Well, we'd be stuck with them anyway. We're the only superpower, and if we want things to stay that way, we'll have to keep taking the lead. Besides, bad times are good times for the powerful.'

'You and your Chinese proverbs,' said the President. 'Well, they're not going to hand it to us on a plate. We'll have a tough time convincing them that we, of all people, should head an international commission. Imagine the reaction from the Arabs! Not to mention China and North Korea. Oh, that reminds me. I took a look at your files on the scientists. One looks Asian. I thought we said no Asians and no Arabs.'

'Asian? Which one?'

'Oh, something funny-sounding, like Wakawaka or-'

'You mean Leon Anawak. Did you read his CV?'

'No, I only flipped through.'

'He's not Asian.' Li increased the speed to twelve kilometres per hour. I'm the most Asian person in Whistler by some margin.'

The President laughed. 'Oh, Jude, you could be from Mars for all I care. I'd still back you all the wav. Darned shame that you can't come over and watch the game. We're going out to the ranch – assuming nothing comes up. Barbecued spare ribs. My wife's got them marinating already.'

'Next time, sir,' Li said heartily.

They chatted for a bit about baseball. Li didn't push the idea that the US should lead the global coalition. Within forty-eight hours, he'd believe he'd thought of it himself. It was enough to plant the suggestion.

At the end of the conversation, she carried on running for a while. Then she sat down at the grand piano, her body still dripping with sweat, and lifted her hands to the keyboard. She focused.

A few seconds later, Mozart's Piano Sonata in G Major was flowing from her fingers.

KH-12

Like perfume on the breeze, the strains of Li's piano-playing carried through the corridors on the ninth floor of Chateau Whistler and floated out of the half-open window into the outside air. At a hundred metres above ground-level, the sound waves fanned out in concentric ripples. At the highest point of the hotel, in the fairy-tale turret perched at the top, anyone with sharp ears would have heard the music, albeit faintly. Beyond the gabled roof, though, the waves began to disperse. A hundred metres higher up, they had merged with numerous other sound waves and, as the altitude increased, the noises fell silent. A kilometre above ground, a number of sounds could still be heard: car engines starting, propeller planes droning past, and the chime of bells from the Presbyterian church in Whistler village, whose otherwise bustling streets now formed part of the exclusion zone. Finally, at an altitude of two kilometres, the whirring noise of the military choppers – the Chateau's main link to the outside world – gradually started to fade.

Viewed from that height, the hotel was still clearly visible to the naked eye, nestled among acres of forest rising gently to the west. Furrowed snow glistened on the nearby mountain ridges. Ludwig II could only have dreamed of such a place.