Frank Schatzing - The Swarm

'A thank-you would be nice.'

'Thank you.'

She glanced at the laptop. 'Any luck?'

'Zilch. How're they getting on with the samples?'

'No idea. I had other things to deal with.'

'Such as?'

'Looking after Hvistendahl's assistant.'

'What's wrong with him?'

'He's feeding the fish.' She shrugged. 'You know, mustering his bag.'

Johanson chuckled. Lund liked using sailors' slang. Research vessels brought together two different worlds: scientists and seamen. The two groups tiptoed around each other, doing their best to be accommodating, adjusting to their different ways of talking and living, and getting used to each other's quirks. After a while, they'd know they were in safe water – but until then there was a respectful distance between them, which they bridged with jokes. 'Mustering a bag' was the crew's euphemism for a newcomer's seasickness.

'You threw up the first time too,' said Johanson.

'And you didn't?'

'No.'

'Huh.'

'It's true!' Johanson put his hand on his heart. 'I'm a good sailor.'

Lund dug out a scrap of paper with a scribbled email address. 'Next up is a trip to Greenland. One of Bohrmann's contacts is working out there.'

'Lukas Bauer?'

'You know him?'

Johanson nodded slowly. 'There was a conference a few years back in Oslo. He gave a lecture. I think he was working on currents.'

'He's an engineer. He designs all kinds of things – oceanographic equipment, pressurised tanks. Bohrmann said he even had a hand in the deep-sea simulation chamber.'

'And now he's in the Greenland Sea.'

'He's been there for weeks,' said Lund. 'You're right about his interest in currents, though. He's collecting data there. Another candidate for interrogation in your quest for the worm.'

Johanson hadn't come across the expedition in his earlier research.

The Greenland Sea… Weren't there methane deposits there too? 'How's Skaugen getting on?' he asked.

'Slowly,' Lund told him. 'He's been gagged.'

'By the board?'

'Statoil's a state-controlled company. Need I say more?'

'So, he won't learn anything new,' said Johanson.

Lund sighed. 'The others aren't stupid, you know. They'll notice if someone's trying to pump them for information without giving anything in return. And, anyway, they've got their own code of silence.'

'That's what I told you.'

'Oh, if only I had your brains.'

There was the sound of footsteps outside, then one of Hvistendahl's team poked his head round the door. 'Meeting in the conference room,' he said.

'When?'

'Now. We've got the results.'

Johanson and Lund exchanged a glance. Deep down they already knew the truth. Johanson closed the lid of the laptop, and they followed the man to the main deck below.

BOHRMANN STOOD AT THE TABLE, leaning forward on his knuckles.

'So far we've found the same state of affairs all along the slope,' he said. 'The sea is saturated with methane. Our readings concur with those from the Thorvaldson . There are a few variations, but the basic picture's the same.' He paused. 'I don't want to beat about the bush. Something has started to destabilise large sections of the hydrates.'

No one stirred. No one spoke.

Then the Statoil team all started talking at once.

'What are you saying?'

'So the hydrates are dissociating. I thought you said worms can't destabilise the ice!'

'Is the water getting warmer? Because if it isn't…'

'But what happens if-'

'OK!' Bohrmann gestured for everyone to be quiet. 'That's the situation. I still don't believe the worms are capable of causing serious damage. However, we shouldn't forget that the incidence of the worms coincides time-wise with the breakdown of the hydrates.'

'Very helpful,' muttered Stone.

'Do we know how advanced the process is?' asked Lund.

'We've studied the data from the Thorvaldson expedition a few weeks ago,' said Bohrmann. He was trying to sound reassuring. 'That was when you first discovered the worms. The readings were normal then. They must have started rising since.'

'So what's the deal?' asked Stone. 'Is it getting warmer down there or isn't it?'

'It's not. The stability field is unchanged. The fact that methane's escaping must he due to processes occurring deep in the sediment. Deeper, in any case, than the worms could burrow.'

'What makes you so sure?'

'We've already proved-' Bohrmann broke off. 'With the help of Dr Johanson we've already proved that these creatures can't survive without oxygen. They can only burrow a few metres deep.'

'All you've proved is what happens in a tank,' said Stone, disparagingly. He seemed to have selected Bohrmann as his new arch-enemy.

'If the water isn't getting warmer, then maybe the seabed is,' suggested Johanson.

'Volcanic activity?'

'It's just an idea.'

'Well, it makes sense – but not in this region.'

'Can the dissociated methane get into the water?'

'Not in sufficient quantities, no. For that the worms would need to reach a gas pocket, or be capable of melting hydrates.'

'But they can't possibly have reached a gas pocket,' Stone insisted stubbornly.

'No, like I said-'

'I know exactly what you said. Now it's your turn to listen to me. Each one of those worms is radiating heat, the same as any living creature does. And the warmth they're creating is melting the ice. It only melts a few centimetres on the surface, but it's enough to-'

'The body temperature of a deep-sea creature matches that of its environment,' said Bohrmann, smoothly.

'But, even so, if-'

'Clifford.' Hvistendahl placed a restraining hand on Stone's arm. It looked like a friendly gesture, but Johanson sensed it was a warning. 'Why don't we wait for the next set of readings?'

'Bugger that!'

'You're not helping, Cliff Drop it.' There was silence again.

'What happens if the methane keeps escaping?' asked Lund.

'There are various possible scenarios,' said Bohrmann. 'Methane fields have been known to disappear. The hydrates can dissociate within a year. That could be what's happening here, and it's conceivable that the worms have triggered the process. If that's the case, large quantities of methane will be released into the air above Norway.'

'Just like fifty-five million years ago?'

'No, there isn't enough for that, and we really shouldn't speculate. Having said that, I don't see how the process can continue without a decrease in pressure or an increase in temperature, and there's no evidence of either. In the coming hours we'll send down the video grab. Maybe that'll clear things up. That's all for the moment.' And with that he left the room.

JOHANSON EMAILED Lukas Bauer in the Greenland Sea. He was starting to feel like a biological detective. Have you seen this worm? Can you describe it to me? Could you pick it out from five other specimens in an identity parade? Is this the worm that stole the lady's handbag? All relevant information will be noted in evidence.

First he wrote a few friendly lines about their meeting in Oslo, then enquired whether Bauer had detected unusually high levels of methane in the area where he was working. He'd deliberately left this point out of his other emails.

When he returned to the deck, he saw the video sledge dangling from the arm of the crane while Bohrmann's geologists inspected it. They were hauling it in. Not far away, outside the repair room, a group of sailors sat talking on a large chest filled with scrubbing brushes. Over the years, it had established itself as a lookout and living room combined. Draped in a threadbare cloth, it was known by some as 'the couch'. It was the ideal place to sit and poke fun at the unsteady movements of the research assistants and scientists, but there were no jokes today. The tension was affecting the sailors too, most of whom knew what the scientists were up to: there was something wrong with the continental slope, and everyone was worried.