The Swarm (106 page)

‘Not in the way we know it,' said Anawak. ‘I'm not sure you can talk about individual consciousness in relation to single cells. But the amoebas are certainly creative on an individual basis. They're sensors that turn experience into something they can use, before feeding it into the collective. A thought is probably only taken into consideration if the impulse behind it is strong enough, that's to say if enough yrr are trying to introduce it into the collective at the same time. Each thought is weighed up against a range of others, and the fittest survives.'

‘Just like evolution,' nodded Weaver. ‘Thinking by natural selection.'

‘That's some enemy!' Li seemed full of admiration. ‘Zero loss of information and no pointless vanities. We never see more than part of the whole, while they see everything throughout time and space.'

‘And that's why we're destroying our planet,' said Crowe. ‘We can't see what we're doing. They must know that - which means they know we don't have genetic memory.'

‘Right. It all adds up. No wonder they don't want to negotiate. They could make a deal with you or me, but what if we die tomorrow? Then who would they deal with? Having genetic memory would save us from our own stupidity, but it's not the way we're made. Trying to get along with humans is a pipedream. The yrr have seen that. It's part of their collective knowledge and it's the reason they've decided to mobilise against us.'

‘Once they learn something, no one can take it away from them,' said Oliviera. ‘In a yrr-collective everyone knows everything. They don't need think tanks, scientists, generals or leaders. You can kill as many yrr as you like - but so long as some survive, their collective knowledge lives on too.'

‘Just a minute.' Li turned to her. ‘Didn't you say that there might be some queen-yrr?'

‘Yes. Even if collective knowledge is part of each yrr, collective action might be initiated centrally. My guess is that queen-yrr exist.'

‘As single cells?'

‘Well, they'd have to share the same biochemistry as the aggregated jelly, so it's likely that they're single cells. But they're highly organised. The only way we're ever going to get close to them is through communication.'

‘But all they send us are cryptic messages!' said Vanderbilt. ‘They sent us a picture of prehistoric Earth. Why? What are they trying to tell us?'

‘Everything,' said Crowe.

‘Could you be a little more specific?'

‘They're telling us is that this is their planet - which they've been ruling for a hundred and eighty million years, maybe more. They're telling us they've got genetic memory, the magnetic field is their compass, and they're everywhere where there's water. They want us to know that we're in the here and now, whereas they're everywhere and for ever. Those are the facts. It's all in the message, and it says a lot.'

Vanderbilt scratched his belly. ‘So what do we tell them?'

‘They've decided they want to destroy us. We're not going to defeat that logic by arguing that we want to survive. Our only chance lies in trying to show them that we acknowledge their primacy…'

‘The primacy of amoebas?'

‘…and in persuading them that we no longer pose a threat.'

‘But we are a threat,' said Weaver.

‘She's right,' said Johanson. ‘Empty promises won't help. We need to give them a signal that we're withdrawing from their world. We need to stop contaminating the seas with chemical and noise pollution, and we need to do it fast enough to make them wonder whether they could live with us, after all.'

‘It's up to you now, Jude,' said Crowe. ‘You know what we think, but it's for you to pass that on. Or to put it into action.'

All eyes were fixed on Li.

She nodded. ‘I think you're right,' she said. ‘But we shouldn't rush into anything. If we want to pull out of the seas, we need to send them a message to convey that exactly and convincingly.' She looked at the faces turned towards her. ‘I want you all working on this together. And I
don't want anyone rushing or panicking. We mustn't be too hasty. A few days here or there won't make any difference. What really matters is that you get the tone right. The yrr are more alien to us than anything we'd ever imagined. If there's the smallest chance of coming to a peaceful solution, we have to seize it. So, do your best.'

‘Thanks, Jude,' smiled Crowe. ‘Wise words from the American military.'

 

Li left the room, followed by Peak and Vanderbilt. ‘Has Rubin been able to synthesise enough of that stuff?' she muttered.

‘Yep,' said Vanderbilt.

‘Good. I want him to get one of the Deepflights ready. In two or three hours we can start to get this over with.'

‘Why the hurry?' asked Peak.

‘Johanson. He looks as though he's about to have a revelation. I'm not in the mood for discussion.'

‘And we're one hundred per cent ready to go?'

Li looked at him. ‘Sal, I've told the President we're ready. And if the President thinks we're ready, we're ready.'

Well Deck

‘Hey, Jack.'

Anawak headed towards the dolphin tank. Greywolf glanced up, then turned back to the miniature video camera he was disassembling. As the newcomer drew closer, two dolphins stuck their heads out of the water and greeted him with whistles and chatter. They swam over to claim their share of affection. ‘I'm not interrupting anything, am I?' asked Anawak, as he patted the dolphins.

‘Uh-uh.'

It wasn't the first time that Anawak had been down to the well deck since the attack. On each occasion he'd tried to get Greywolf to talk to him, but to no avail. His friend seemed to have retreated inside himself. He hadn't attended any of the meetings and had taken to merely summarising the dolphin footage in handwritten notes. The pictures didn't show much anyway. The images of the jelly approaching the ship were disappointing: a blue glow that faded into the depths, then shadowy
glimpses of orcas. After that the dolphins had taken fright and huddled under the keel, filming the expanse of steel. Greywolf had put forward the case for the remainder of the fleet to keep up their role as the vessel's early-warning system and resume their patrol of the boat. Anawak no longer believed that the dolphins could help them, but he was careful not to voice his doubts. Secretly he suspected that all Greywolf wanted was to carry on as usual.

They stood in silence for a while. A group of soldiers and technicians emerged from the bottom of the basin, where they'd finished dismantling the shattered glass hatch. One of the technicians went up to the control desk on the jetty. The pumps kicked into action.

‘Time for us to leave,' said Greywolf.

They made their way up the embankment. Anawak watched as the basin filled with water. ‘They're flooding it again,' he said.

‘Yeah, well, it's easier to release the dolphins when the basin's full.'

‘You're letting them out?'

Greywolf nodded.

‘I'll help,' said Anawak. ‘If you like.'

‘Sure.' Greywolf opened the back of the camera and inserted a miniature screwdriver.

‘Right away?'

‘I've got to get this working first.'

‘Why don't you take a break? We could get something to drink. We all need a rest from time to time.'

‘It's not like I'm busy, Leon. All I do is mess around with the equipment and make sure the dolphins are OK. I'm on one perpetual break already.'

‘You should come to the meetings, then.'

Greywolf carried on working in silence. The conversation dried up.

‘Jack,' said Anawak, ‘you can't hide yourself away for ever.'

‘Who said anything about for ever?'

‘What do you call this, then?'

‘I'm just doing my job.' Greywolf shrugged. ‘I listen to what the dolphins report, monitor the video footage, and if anyone needs me, I'm here.'

‘But you're not here, really. You don't know anything about what's happened over the past twenty-four hours.'

‘I do.'

‘How?'

‘Sue's been to see me a few times. Even Peak was down here earlier to check things out. They all tell me stuff I don't even have to ask.'

Anawak stared straight ahead. Suddenly he was furious. ‘Well, I guess you don't need me, then,' he snapped.

Greywolf didn't respond.

‘You've decided to rot down here by yourself?'

‘I prefer the company of animals.'

Licia was killed by one, Anawak felt like saying. He stopped himself just in time.

‘I lost Licia too, you know,' he said finally.

Briefly Greywolf froze. Then he carried on poking the screwdriver inside the camera. ‘That's not what this is about.'

‘Then what is it about?'

‘What do you want from me, Leon?'

‘You know what, Jack? I don't know. To be honest, I'm beginning to wonder.'

He'd almost reached the tunnel when he heard Greywolf say in a low voice, ‘Leon! Don't go.'

Memories

Johanson couldn't keep his eyes open. The late-night session in the lab had taken its toll. He was stationed in front of the monitors at the control desk, while Oliviera synthesised batches of yrr-pheromone in the containment facility. They were planning to release some of the chemical into the tank. There wasn't much sign of the collective, just swarms of amoebas clouding the water. The jelly seemed to have disaggregated and the glow had gone. By adding the synthesised pheromone, they were hoping to induce the yrr to aggregate so that they could carry out more tests.

Maybe, thought Johanson, we should experiment with one of Crowe's messages to see if the collective responds.

His head was throbbing and he knew what was causing it. It wasn't a question of working too hard or sleeping too little. His brain was aching from the memories trapped inside.

Ever since the meeting that morning the pain had got worse. His
internal slide projector was back in action, triggered by a remark Li had made. The short sequence of words had expanded to occupy his mind and prevent him focusing. Johanson's head lolled back as he slipped into a doze, caught in a perpetual loop of Li's words.

We mustn't be too hasty. Mustn't be too hasty. Mustn't
…

He heard noises and woke briefly, blinked in the lights of the lab, then closed his eyes again.

Mustn't be too hasty
.

 

Darkness.

The hangar deck.

A sound like grating metal. He jolts awake. For a fleeting moment he can't remember where he is. Then he feels the steel side of the vessel in the small of his back. The sky is brightening above the sea. He sits up, and glances at the bulkhead.

A door stands wide open, luminous in the gloom, spilling light into the hangar. Johanson stands up. He must have been sitting there for hours - or so his aching joints tell him. He moves slowly towards the rectangle of light. He can see now that it's a passageway with plain walls on either side and neon lights above. It extends a few metres, then stops and turns right.

Johanson peers through the door and listens.

Voices and noises. He takes a step back.

Indecision.

Mustn't be too hasty. Don't be hasty
.

He hesitates.

Then a barrier bursts open.

He enters. Nothing but plain walls, then the change in direction. He follows the passageway round to the right. It turns again, this time to the left. It's spacious in here - wide enough to drive a car. The voices and noises return, this time more loudly. They must be close, just round the second bend. He draws nearer, then a sharp left turn, and…

The lab.

No, not
the
lab.
A
lab. Smaller, with a lower ceiling. But it's above the converted vehicle deck, where the deep-sea chamber is located. This lab has a chamber too, a much smaller one. And there's something glowing inside it; a blue thing with tentacles.

He looks around in disbelief.

The whole room is a small but perfect copy of the one beneath it. Rows of benches, pieces of equipment, barrels of liquid nitrogen. A control desk and monitors. An electron microscope. Across the room, a biohazard symbol marks a reinforced door, and at the back of the lab a narrow passageway leads inside the ship.

Three people are standing next to the chamber. They're talking, unaware of the intruder. The two men have their backs to him, but the woman is standing in profile, scribbling something on a pad. Her gaze shifts between the two men, then round the room and settles on Johanson.

Her jaw drops, and the men spin round. He recognises a guy from Vanderbilt's team. No one knows what he does - the usual CIA story.

The second is Rubin.

Johanson is too bewildered to do anything but stare. He sees the shock in Rubin's eyes, sees him searching for a way to save the situation. And it's that look that rouses Johanson from his paralysis as it dawns on him that his work is a charade. He's being used. He, Oliviera, Anawak, Weaver, Crowe…

Unless Rubin isn't the only one acting more than one part.

Why?

Rubin approaches slowly. His lips are tensed into a smile. ‘Sigur! Goodness me, can't you sleep either?'

Johanson's eyes are wandering round the room, taking in the other faces. One look into their eyes confirms that he doesn't belong here. ‘What's all this about, Mick?'

‘Oh, nothing, it's just…'

‘What is this place? What's going on?'

Rubin draws himself up to his full height. ‘I can explain everything, Sigur. You see, we weren't really planning to use the extra lab. It's only here for emergencies - in case anything…Well, in case anything happens to the main one. We've just been inspecting the systems to make sure it's ready, so—'