Clive Cussler - Lost City

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Lost City: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The key to eternal life has been found beneath two thousand feet of icy water in an area known as the "Lost City." To a family of ruthless French arms dealers the Lost City is the key to world domination. To Kurt Austin, leader of NUMA's Special Assignments Team, and his colleague Joe Zavala, it may be their greatest—and deadliest—challenge of all.
From Publishers Weekly Kurt Austin, leader of the National Underwater and Marine Agency's Special Assignments Team, battles international evildoers again in the fifth installment of this excellent series. There are several parallel plots: a mysterious aviator has been found frozen in a massive glacier; a mutant seaweed is threatening to choke the world's oceans; a giant submarine is roaming the thermal vents of the deep sea area known as the Lost City; and the secretive, arms-dealing Fauchard family, run by ruthless black-widow Racine and her homicidal son, Emil, is up to no good. Also there's a mysterious 16th-century helmet, a search for the philosopher's stone and an island of filthy, mutant cannibals. Austin's love interest is lush, sensual Skye Labelle, an archeologist specializing in arms and armor ("She had a good body, but it would never make the cover of 
"). Kidnappings, hair's-breadth escapes, fierce battles, strange science, beautiful women and plenty of action add up to vintage Cussler. Of course, one of the secrets of the genre is to waste no time on ancillary details: "Before long, a cigar-shaped object came into view"; "Before long, they were stepping out of the cockpit onto the deck." Readers will find that, before long, they're racing through the pages as Austin and his band of merry men fight to stop the Fauchards from reaching the ultimate evildoer's goal: world domination. 

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Osborne ushered the Trouts into his office. Gamay had remembered Osborne as fanatically neat and organized, bordering on the anal, and she saw that he hadn't changed. Where many professors of his stature surrounded themselves with piles of paper and reports, his office consisted of a computer table and chair and a couple of folding chairs for visitors. His only luxury was a tea maker, which he had picked up in Japan.

He poured three cups of green tea and after a brief exchange of pleasantries, he said, "Pardon me for being so brusque, but time is short, so I'll get right to the point." He leaned back in his chair, tented his fingers and said to Gamay, "As a marine biologist, you're acquainted with Caulerpa taxi folia

Gamay had received a degree in marine archaeology from the University of North Carolina before changing her field of interest and enrolling at Scripps, where she'd attained a doctorate in marine biology. Gamay smiled inwardly as she remembered being a student in Osborne's class. He typically asked questions in the form of a statement. "Caulerpa is an alga that's native to the tropics, although it's often seen in home aquariums."

"Correct. And you know that the cold-water strain that thrives so well in aquaria has become a major problem in certain coastal areas?" Gamay nodded. "Killer seaweed. It's destroyed large expanses of the seabed in the Mediterranean and has spread to other places as well. It's a strain of a tropical alga. Tropical algae don't normally live in cold water, but this strain has adapted. It could spread anywhere in the world."

Osborne turned to Paul. "The weed we're talking about was inadvertently released into the water beneath the Oceanographic Museum of Monaco in 1984. Since then it has spread to thirty thousand hectares in the coastal floor off six Mediterranean countries, and it's a problem off Australia and San Diego. It spreads like wildfire. The problem goes beyond speed. The Caulerpa colonies are extremely invasive The weed spreads out with runners and forms a dense green carpet that crowds out other flora and fauna, depriving plants and animals of sunlight and oxygen. Its presence destroys the base of the marine food web, damages native species with devastating consequences for ecosystems."

"Isn't there any way to fight this stuff?"

"In San Diego, they've had some success using tarpaulins to quarantine patches of weed, while pumping chlorine into the water and the mud that anchors the plants. This technique would be useless with a widespread infestation. There has been an effort to educate aquarium dealers who sell Caulerpa or deal in rocks that might be contaminated with organisms."

"No natural enemies?" Trout said.

"Its defense mechanisms are amazingly complex. The weed contains toxins that deter herbivores. It does not die back in winter."

"Sounds like a real monster," Trout said.

"Oh it is. It is. A tiny fragment can start a new colony. Its only weakness is that it can't reproduce sexually, like its wild relatives. But think what might happen if it were to disperse eggs over long distances." /

"Not a pleasant thought," Gamay said. "It could become unstoppable."

Osborne turned to Paul. "As an ocean geologist, you're familiar with the area of the Lost City?"

Trout was glad to get out of the realm of biology and into his area of expertise. "It's an area of hydrothermal vents along the Atlantic Massif. The material spewing from the sea bottom has built up tall mineral towers that resemble skyscrapers, hence the name. I've read the research on it. Fascinating stuff. I'd like to get out there sometime."

"You may soon get your chance," Osborne said.

Paul and Gamay exchanged puzzled glances.

Osborne chuckled, noting their befuddled expressions. "Perhaps you'd better come with me," he said. They left the office and after several twists and turns found themselves in a small laboratory. Osborne went over to a padlocked metal storage cabinet. He unlocked the door with a key hung from his belt and extracted a cylindrical glass phial about twelve inches tall and six inches in diameter. The top was sealed tight. He placed the phial on the table under a lab light. The container seemed to be filled from top to bottom with a thick grayish-green substance.

Gamay leaned forward to examine the contents and said, "What is this gunk?"

"Before I answer your question, let me give you a little background. A few months ago, MBL participated in a joint expedition to the Lost City with the Woods Hole Oceanographic. The area is rife with unusual microbes and the substances they produce."

"The combinations of heat and chemicals have been compared to the conditions that prevailed when life began on earth," Gamay said.

Osborne nodded. "On that expedition, the submersible Alvin brought up samples of seaweed. This is a dead sample of what you're looking at."

"The stem and leaf looks vaguely like Caulerpa, but different somehow," Gamay said.

"Very good. The genus has more than seventy Caulerpa species, including those you find in pet shops. Invasive behavior had been documented in five of those, although few of the species are well studied. This is a totally unknown species. I've named it Caulerpa Gorgonosa." "Gorgonweed. I like it."

"You won't like it after you've become as well acquainted with this infernal freak as I have. Scientifically speaking, we're looking at a mutant strain of Caulerpa. Unlike its cousins, though, this species can reproduce sexually."

"If that's true, this Gorgonweed can spread its eggs over long distances. That could be a serious matter."

"It already is. Gorgonweed has intermingled with taxi folia and is now displacing that weed. It has shown up in the Azores, and we're seeing samples along the coast of Spain. Its growth rate is nothing short of phenomenal. There has been a burst of growth that is extraordinary. Great patches of weed are floating in the Atlantic. Soon they will join in a single mass."

Paul let out a low whistle. "It could take over the entire ocean at that rate."

"That's not the worst of it. Taxifolia creates a smothering carpet of alga. Like the Medusa whose gaze could turn men into stone, Gorgonweed becomes a thick, hard biomass. Nothing can exist where it is present." Gamay gazed at the phial with the horror brought on by her knowledge of the world's oceans. "You're basically talking about the world's oceans solidifying."

"I can't even comprehend a worst-case scenario, but I do know this. Within a short time, Gorgonweed could spread along temperate coasts and cause irreparable ecological damage," Osborne said, his voice an uncharacteristic whisper. "It would affect the weather, possibly causing famine. It could bring ocean commerce to a stop. Nations that depend on ocean protein could go hungry. There would be political disruptions around the world as the haves and the have-nots fight over food."

"Who else knows about this?" Paul said.

"Ships have reported the weed as a nuisance, but outside of this room only a few trusted colleagues in this and other countries are aware of the gravity of the situation."

"Shouldn't people know about the threat so they can get together to fight it?" Gamay said.

"Absolutely. But I didn't want to sow seeds of panic until my research was complete. I was in the process of preparing a report which I will submit next week to pertinent organizations such as NUMA and the UN."

"Is there any chance you could do it sooner?" Gamay said.

"Oh yes, but here's the problem. When the issue is biological control, there is often a tug-of-war between eradication interests and scientific study. The eradicators understandably want to attack the problem quickly with every weapon at their command. If this news gets out, research will be quarantined for fear their work will spread the weed." He glanced at the phial. "This creature is not some sort of ocean borne crabgrass. I'm convinced we can successfully deal with it once we have more weapons at our disposal. Unless we know exactly what we're dealing with, no eradication method will work."

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