The Swarm by Frank Schätzing Page A

venture into the most inhospitable regions. Highly flexible and mobile, it could also make a limited range of decisions. With its invention, oil companies were suddenly a step closer to building and maintaining subsea stations at depths of up to five or six thousand metres.
    â€˜You don’t have to apologise,’ said Johanson, as he topped up their glasses. ‘It’s not your fault.’
    â€˜I’m not apologising,’ Lund snapped. ‘Anyway, it’s everyone’s fault. If we didn’t waste so much energy, we wouldn’t have these problems.’
    â€˜We would - just not right now. But your environmental concern is touching.’
    â€˜What of it?’ She bristled at the jibe. ‘Oil companies are capable of learning from their mistakes.’
    â€˜But which ones?’
    â€˜Over the next few decades we’ll be grappling with the problem of dismantling over six hundred uneconomic, out-of-date platforms. Do you have any idea what that costs? Billions! And by then the shelf will be out of oil. So don’t make out that we’re irresponsible.’
    â€˜OK, OK!’
    â€˜Unmanned subsea processors are the only way forward. Without them, Europe will be dependent on the pipelines in the Near East and South America.’
    â€˜I don’t doubt it. I just wonder if you know what you’re up against.’
    â€˜Meaning?’
    â€˜Well, massive technological challenges for a start.’
    â€˜We’re aware of that.’
    â€˜You’re planning to process huge quantities of oil and corrosive chemicals under extreme pressure, with little provision for human intervention…’ Johanson hesitated ‘…you don’t really know what it’s like in the depths.’
    â€˜That’s why we’re finding out.’
    â€˜Like today? It’s not enough. It’s like Granny coming home from holiday with some snapshots and saying she knows about the places that she’s been. Basically, you’re interfering with a system you simply don’t understand.’
    â€˜Not that again,’ groaned Lund.
    â€˜You think I’m wrong?’
    â€˜I can spell ecosystem backwards. I can even do it in my sleep. Is this some kind of anti-oil vendetta?’
    â€˜No. I’m just in favour of getting to know the world around us, and I’m pretty certain you’re repeating your mistakes. At the end of the sixties you filled the North Sea with platforms - and now they’re in the way. You need to make sure you’re not so hasty in the deep sea.’
    â€˜If we’re being so hasty, why did I send you the worms?’
    â€˜You’re right. Ego te absolvo .’
    Johanson decided to change the subject. ‘Kare Sverdrup seems a nice guy.’
    â€˜Do you think so?’
    â€˜Absolutely.’
    Lund swirled the wine in her glass. ‘It’s all very new,’ she said.
    Neither said anything for a while.
    â€˜In love?’ asked Johanson, eventually.
    â€˜Me or him?’
    â€˜You.’
    â€˜Hmm.’ She smiled. ‘I think so.’
    â€˜You think so?’
    â€˜I work in exploration. I guess I’m still feeling my way.’
    It was midnight when she left. At the door she looked back at the empty glasses. ‘A few weeks ago I’d have been yours,’ she said, sounding almost regretful.
    Johanson propelled her into the corridor. ‘At my age you get over it,’ he said.
    She came back, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks for the wine.’
    Life consists of compromises and missed opportunities, thought Johanson, as he shut the door. Then he grinned. He’d seized too many opportunities to be entitled to complain.

18 March
    Vancouver and Vancouver Island, Canada
    Leon Anawak waited with bated breath. Go on, he thought. You can do it.
    For the sixth time the beluga turned and swam towards the mirror. Inside the underwater viewing area at Vancouver