The Leviathan Effect (26 page)

Eight and half years ago, Volkov had merged his largest oil company, TNK, with the Russian oil interests. It was a ten billion dollar deal, and the last of the chess moves he needed to make before he could launch Πpoe
KT
.

Volkov understood the failings of the “Western model” even as he had benefited enormously from it. After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the United States had celebrated the prospect of a “new” democratic Russia—a true capitalist society in which industry, housing, and land would all be privatized; in which industrial ministries would be replaced by private, multi-national corporations.

The outside world had applauded his country’s shift to the Western model; but Russia herself had only suffered because of it. The capitalist example created thirty-five billionaires in less than a decade and gave rise to the oligarchs. But Yeltsin had not been able to stand up to the oligarchs and they had looted his country blind. The “reforms” of the early 1990s had not only failed, they had supported and validated a criminal culture.

The Western model—Volkov preferred to think of it as “the American model”—purported to be about free markets and opportunity. But in actual practice it was about weakness and lawlessness. It was a travesty; the kind of “democratic” system the United States blithely thought it could impose around the world.

Now all of that was going to change—and within a few years Russia would regain her deserved claim to greatness. She would be a country that believed in the future—and also created that future. Vladimir Volkov had been one of the architects of this coming Russia, one of the believers who had helped Putin’s efforts to overhaul the political system, to centralize power in the Kremlin once again, to begin eliminating the criminal culture.

In the dark days of the late 1990s, Volkov had come up with an agenda that would enable Russia to eventually stop playing by the Western rulebook. It was a project that went far beyond politics. A plan that would showcase the visionary muscle of Russia again, making her a world leader in science and technology. It was Putin
who had named it Πpoe
KT
, “The Project,” on the first night they had discussed it, a balmy May weekend at his vacation villa on the Black Sea.

Unlike his father, Volkov felt driven by the call of destiny. He had taken on an elevated mission, one that would ultimately restore greatness to his homeland. Americans liked big ideas. This President, in particular, embraced them. And Volkov had come up with a very big idea, one that he was about to sell to the President. Victor Zorn had been meticulously groomed to be the general who would journey to America and lead the mission. He was a world-class salesman, with a personality that worked like a magic trick. He had surprised and impressed Volkov with his ability to sign up such a strong advisory board—all high-profile American figures.

But Mr. Zorn had acquired an American softness, as well, and Volkov worried about him. The latest problem with Victor was that he thought too much. When you think too much, you imagine too many outcomes.

So he considered Mr. Zorn’s mission to the United States a trial, and if it did not succeed, he would replace him with Petrenko. Petrenko was not as smooth or as charming as Zorn, but he was just as adept at negotiations, and he was considerably tougher—a former KGB man who had once been a middleman for Izmailovskaya.

Volkov pushed a button on his telephone and he summoned Svetlana. She would finish his massage now.

He checked his watch again.

It was time. 6:45
P.M.
in Southern France.

12:45 in Washington. Victor Zorn should be arriving at the gate of the White House. Πpoe
KT
was going to have its first major trial.

C
ATHERINE
B
LAINE INSTANTLY RECOGNIZED
three of the four members of the Weathervane team as they were led by Chief of Staff Gabriel Herring through the doors to the Cabinet Room: Jared Clayton, Morgan Garland, and Sue Romfo. Dr. Clayton was a Nobel Prize-winner known for his pioneering work in cloud physics. Morgan Garland was among the most successful venture capitalists in the country; she had recently viewed a segment about him on
60 Minutes
. Dr. Romfo was a well-known researcher on the effects of global warming on hurricane formation and frequency.

What could have convinced them to become involved in this project?

Blaine did not know the fourth representative of Weathervane, who introduced himself as “Mr. Zorn.” He was tall and svelte, dressed in a black, double-breasted suit; there was something slightly exotic about him—the well-proportioned face and regal nose that suggested nobility, the easy smile, the indeterminate accent, the thick brushed-back dark hair, with stray loose strands and the welcoming but slightly elusive eyes.

As Blaine shook his hand, though, she was reminded of the death of her friend, Ruben Sanchez, and felt a rush of anger.

The President sat at the foot of the table. His Cabinet secretaries and the Vice President took the seats on the right side of the table, his three guests to the left.

Victor Zorn, though, did not sit. He opened a laptop computer and set it in the center of the table.

“Mr. President,” he said. “Madam Secretary. Gentlemen. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us this afternoon.” He glanced at them
one at a time, with a deference that seemed to hold everyone’s attention. “I want to assure you from the outset that we are all here today for the same purpose.” His cheeks dimpled slightly as he smiled; he was actually pleasant to look at, Blaine thought. “Our interest, you will see, is the national interest.”

Mr. Zorn snapped open his briefcase and extracted a stack of dark binders, which he passed around the table to each of the people in the room, including his team. Blaine noticed his neatly manicured nails. On the black cover were two letters in embossed gold print:
WG
.

“As you know,” he said, “we represent a consortium known as the Weathervane Group. In front of you now is an overview of our organization and a summary of our proposal. Please take a moment to page through it.”

Blaine looked through her booklet. Twelve pages, divided into sections: a paragraph description of the company; a list of advisers, some of whom she recognized; prominent weather scientists and physicists; a list of twenty-seven participating companies, foundations, and facilities. The last three pages explained the project they had come here to talk about. It was titled “Hurricane Alexander Mitigation.”

Blaine went back to the first page. According to the description, WG had been built over nearly two decades and represented “the most advanced work in the fields of environmental and climate research, meteorology, geo-engineering, and natural disaster mitigation.”

The consortium’s twenty-seven partners included research labs, consulting firms, weather monitoring data centers, and a private satellite company.

“As you can see,” Mr. Zorn said, “the consortium deals with a wide range of research and technology issues and solutions. Although I’m sure the most pressing question you have today is what can these technologies actually do for us—all of us—right now?” He nodded out the window, at the heavy slants of rain in the Rose Garden. “Can they avert this apparent crisis that we are all now facing together?”

“And your answer?” said the Vice President.

“The answer? Is unequivocally, yes.” He smiled. “In fact, in a sense, this storm presents the perfect case for us to demonstrate how, and why, all of this works. It is not a single technology or entity that we represent, you see, but a
consortium
of companies working together to find solutions to complex international problems.

“I would like to make it clear, too, as Dr. Clayton will explain to you in a few moments, that there is nothing theoretical or hypothetical about our proposal. This technology began with algorithm-driven computer models, fine-tuned over a period of many years. But it has now been successfully implemented in real time to mitigate three hurricane-force storms in the Pacific Ocean.”

There was an inaudible ripple of surprise around the table, Blaine sensed.

Mr. Zorn bowed his head. “Mr. Garland,” he said, “would you like to introduce a video of the process?”

Morgan Garland, the venture capitalist, a slightly frail-looking man in his mid-fifties with pale skin, oversized tortoise-shell glasses, and tufts of silver-blond hair, leaned forward. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Zorn,” he said. “Keep in mind, these are not computer-generated pictures you will be seeing. These are actual satellite images of cyclone systems in the Pacific Ocean.”

He pressed a key on the laptop and sat down again. An animated image materialized. Mr. Zorn eased back behind the row of chairs as the others watched. The video purported to show three Pacific Ocean storm systems over the past year. Each time-lapse sequence displayed similar patterns—the storm gathering, intensifying and then dissipating. Each presentation took about three minutes, although the tracking actually evolved over several days, Garland explained. The third example was a typhoon that diminished in wind speed from 105 miles per an hour to 20 miles an hour in less than a day.

Blaine was aware of the three storms, and their rapid deteriorations. But the videos alone proved nothing.

“Dr. Clayton,” Mr. Zorn said, nodding toward the Nobel Prize-winner.

“Thank you,” Clayton said, clasping his hands on the table. He was tall and slightly stooped, with disheveled gray hair, intelligent eyes and a strikingly deep voice. “Just by way of introduction,” he said, glancing at a page of notes. “My involvement in this began three years ago, when I was hired as a consultant for a new weather-modeling research center in northern California. That research center today houses the largest weather data assimilation project in the world. Last year, as you’ve just seen, we managed to mitigate these three full-fledged cyclones—”

“Just to clarify,” said the Vice President, raising a hand. “What is the difference between a cyclone and a hurricane? Or is there a difference?”

Clayton seemed taken aback for a moment, and looked to Mr. Zorn. “No, actually,” said Mr. Zorn. “Cyclones, typhoons, hurricanes are all the same thing. They carry different names in different parts of the world.”

“So,” the President said. “Let’s cut to the chase. How does this so-called mitigation work? How did you do this?”

Mr. Zorn nodded for Clayton to go ahead. “There are four primary mitigation operations,” Dr. Clayton said, “which have been developed and refined over the past two decades. They are all summarized in your booklets.

“The first we call Manipulated Eyewall Degradation, or MED. This is, in effect, a more sophisticated version of what the government attempted in the 1960s and 1970s. It was called Project Stormfury then. The idea was to inject silver iodide showers into the first rain bands outside the wall of clouds that surround a hurricane’s eye. The heating that resulted caused the clouds to enlarge, creating what is known as ‘invigorated convection,’ which weakens the center of the system.

“The earlier model used silver iodide, released into the clouds by ten or a dozen Air Force planes. Since then, and in particular in the past five years, private industry has developed a more effective synthetic property, which is capable of disrupting the energy in the eye of the storm, causing it to, in effect, lose its energy source and unravel.

“Second is Solar Laser Technology. This involves solar-powered satellite laser beams, which can both disrupt the balance inside a storm’s eye and also steer the storm by heating the air on either side of the eye wall. This technology is being developed by one private company in particular, which launched its first weather control satellite last year. A second is expected to go up this winter. So far, they have demonstrated an ability to steer storm systems into cooler waters or into low pressure systems. This same technology has been studied by NASA. But the private sector is considerably further along with it at this point.

“Third is Sub-Surface Tomography. A hurricane, you see, is basically fed by warm water. Cooler water slows it down. SST causes a
disruption under the surface of the ocean floor, which pumps cooler water from the bottom of the sea up to the surface. The effect is similar to that of the proposed technology referred to as ‘up-welling pumps.’ SST uses radio frequency beams, which bounce off the atmosphere and return to the sea floor, in turn causing cold water to rise to the surface, weakening the hurricane.

“The fourth process is known as Synthetic Cloud Disassembly. It involves the injection of what is in effect a genetically engineered bacteria into the eye of a hurricane. This process is the most experimental of the four, but also, in some respects, the most promising. It actually stems from ideas developed in the field of artificial intelligence. A plane releases clouds of this substance into the eye of a hurricane and the artificial bacteria attaches to the inner wall of the hurricane, counteracting the convection process. The bacterial agents multiply rapidly, self-combining, forming larger clouds that cause the system to destabilize. These cloud agents have been programmed with what might be called a self-sustaining ‘collective intelligence,’ which in theory, at least, is more effective than the self-sustaining forces driving the hurricane. This technology is being developed through a California-based firm that Dr. Romfo has worked with very closely.”

He cleared his throat and leaned back, indicating that he was finished. The President exchanged a long look with Blaine.

Moments later, Vice President Stanton began to chuckle. Everyone in the room turned to him.

“Sorry,” he said. “But if you want my honest opinion—this all just sounds a little crackers to me.”

Mr. Zorn stepped toward the table. Placed his hands calmly on the back of an empty chair, showing the creases of a smile in his cheeks. “Yes,” he said. “Much as sending a man to the moon did five decades ago.”

“That’s true,” said Dr. Romfo, speaking for the first time. She was a large woman with heavy features and long, kinky dark hair. “These ideas aren’t new, actually. With the exception of the last one. The others have all been studied, discussed, dissected, written about and modeled for years.”