Frank Schatzing - The Swarm

He had to think.

Striding towards the starboard side of the vessel, he stepped on to the elevator. Gusts of wind tugged at his clothes and hair. The swell was still rising. Within seconds his face was covered with spray. He walked to the edge and gazed down at the turbulent lunar landscape of the Greenland Sea.

What was he to do?

CONTROL ROOM

Li was standing in front of the monitors. She watched as Johanson inspected the bulkhead and strode across the hangar deck in frustration.

'What was all that crap about an agreement?' growled Vanderbilt. 'You don't really think he'll keep his mouth shut until tonight?'

'It wouldn't surprise me,' said Li.

'And what if he doesn't?'

Johanson disappeared out of the hangar bay on to the elevator. Li turned 'You should know better than to ask. You're going to solve the problem, Jack. Right away.'

'Hang on a minute,' Peak objected. 'That's not what we'd agreed.'

'How do you mean, solve ? Vanderbilt asked warily.

'Solve,' said Li. 'I mean solve . A storm's getting up out there. You'd think people would know better than to wander outside. A gust of wind…'

'No,' said Peak. 'No one said anything about-'

'That's enough, Sal.'

'Jude, we could lock him up for a few hours. That's all we need.'

Li didn't bother to acknowledge him. 'Do your job, Jack,' she said to Vanderbilt. 'And make sure you do it personally ! Vanderbilt grinned. 'With pleasure, baby.'

LAB

Oliviera's long face was now even longer. She stared at Weaver, then at Rubin.

'Well?' said Weaver.

Rubin blanched. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Mick, listen to me.' Weaver moved between him and the table and laid an arm across his shoulders in a gesture that seemed almost friendly. 'I'm not a great talker. I like short, snappy conversations. So why don't we start again? This time, don't wind me up with excuses. There's a lab directly above us. You can get there from the hangar deck. Sure, the door's well camouflaged, but Sigur saw you going in and out. And you socked him one. Isn't that right-'

'I might have guessed.' Oliviera looked at Rubin contemptuously.

The biologist tried to free himself from Weaver's grip, and failed. 'I've never heard such utter-No! Stop!'

Weaver's free hand was wielding a scalpel. She pressed the tip against his artery. Rubin flinched. She pushed the blade a little further into his skin and tightened her grip. The biologist was locked in her embrace. 'Are you out of your mind?' he croaked. 'What right do you have to-'

'Mick, I'm not squeamish. And I'm stronger than you'd think. When I was little, I cuddled a cat and accidentally crashed it. Isn't that awful? I only wanted to stroke it, and then, crunch… So, you'd do well to think over carefully what you're about to tell me…'

VANDERBILT

Vanderbilt had no real desire to kill Johanson, but neither was he interested in keeping him alive. In a funny way he liked the guy, but that was beside the point: he'd been given the assignment, and his instructions were clear. Johanson wouldn't pose a security risk for much longer.

Floyd Anderson accompanied him. Like most of the men on the Independence , the first officer was there to serve a dual role. His training was with the navy, true, but his loyalties lay with the CIA. Almost everyone on board, with the exception of Buchanan and a few crew men, was on the CIA's books. Anderson had already taken part in covert operations in Pakistan and the Gulf He was a good agent.

And a killer.

Vanderbilt pondered the turn of events. He'd maintained his belief that they were fighting terrorists until the bitter end, but now he had to concede that Johanson had been right all along. It seemed a shame to kill him, particularly as it was Li's idea. Vanderbilt couldn't stand that blue-eyed witch. Li was paranoid, conniving and twisted. He hated her, and yet he couldn't fault the perfidious logic of her ruthlessness. She might be crazy, but she was right. And she was right about this.

Suddenly he thought of how he'd warned Johanson about Li in Nanaimo.

She's nuts . Capisce?

Clearly Johanson hadn't understood.

No one understood at first. They didn't get what was wrong with Li: her tendency to see conspiracies everywhere and her obsessive ambition meant that she overreacted. She lied, deceived and was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything to achieve her goals. That was the real Judith Li. She was the President's darling, and even he didn't see her for who she really was. The most powerful man in the world had no idea who he was fostering.

We should all watch out, thought Vanderbilt. Unless someone grabs a gun and solves the problem – when the time comes.

They hurried along the passageways. In loitering on the external platform, Johanson was doing them a big favour. How had that mad bitch put it? A gust of wind…

CONTROL ROOM

Vanderbilt was barely out of the room when Li was summoned to one of the consoles. The man at the desk pointed to the monitor. 'Looks like funny business in the lab,' he said.

Li watched the action on the screen. Weaver, Oliviera and Rubin were standing in a huddle. Weaver had an arm round Rubin's shoulders and was pressing him to her chest. Since when had those two been such good friends?

'More sound,' said Li.

They heard Weaver talking. Her voice was faint, but clear. She was interrogating Rubin about the hidden lab. On closer inspection, Rubin's eyes were filled with fear, and Weaver was holding something that glinted in the light. It was uncomfortably close to Rubin's throat.

Li had seen and heard enough. 'Sal, I need you and three men with machine guns – at the double. We're going in.'

'What do you intend to do?' asked Peak.

'Restore order.' She turned away from the screen and went to the door. 'That question just cost us two seconds. Waste any more time, Sal, and I'll shoot you myself. Get your men. You've got one minute. Then we're going to straighten out a thing or two with Weaver. The closed season for scientists is over.'

LAB

'You worthless bastard,' said Oliviera. 'You knocked Sigur unconscious. What the hell were you thinking?'

There was blind panic in Rubin's eyes. He scanned the ceiling.

'That's not true, I-'

'Don't bother looking for cameras, Mick,' Weaver said softly. 'You'll be dead before anyone gets here.'

Rubin started to shake.

'I'm going to ask you again, Mick, what's going on up there ?

'We've developed a toxin,' he stuttered.

'A toxin?' echoed Oliviera.

'We used your work, Sue. I mean, yours and Sigur's, of course. Once you'd worked out the formula for the pheromone, there was nothing to stop us manufacturing as much of it as we liked and… Well, we coupled it to a radioactive isotope.'

'You did what?'

'We contaminated the pheromone – the yrr-cells can't tell the difference. We ran some trials and-'

'Do you mean you've got a deep-sea chamber up there too?'

'Only a small one… Karen, please. Put the knife away. It's futile. They can hear and see everything-'

'Stick to the point,' said Weaver. 'And then what?'

'Well, the pheromone kills defective yrr-cells. They die because they don't have special receptors – it's just like Sue said. Once it was obvious that programmed cell death is part of yrr-biochemistry, we had to find a way of inducing it in healthy yrr as well.'

'Via the pheromone?'

'It's the only way. We can't mess with the DNA directly because we haven't fully decoded the genome, and that would take years. We coupled the scent to a radioactive isotope that the yrr can't detect.'

'And what does it do?'

'It shuts down the special receptor. It means the pheromone is deadly. It can kill healthy cells too.'