White Death, стр. 50

Both men laughed over the shared joke. Barker came over and shook hands. He was in his early fifties, with an imposing physique, a shaved head and sunglasses that hid his eyes. His skin had a bleached-out look to it.

"It's a great pleasure to meet someone from NUMA. Please don't let Throckmorton frighten you. You'll never eat a salmon amandine again after listening to him. What brings you to McGill?"

"We were on vacation and heard about Dr. Throckmorton's work/' Gamay said. "As a marine biologist, I thought there might be something in it NUMA would be interested in."

"A busman's holiday! Well, let me defend myself against this slan- der. I am a strong proponent oftransgenic fish, which makes me sus- pect in the eyes of my friend here."

"The doctor is more than a proponent. He is affiliated with some of the biotech companies that are pushing to bring these creatures to market."

"You make it sound like a dark conspiracy, Throckmorton. My friend forgets to tell you that I am working with the full complicity and financial support of the Canadian government."

"Dr. Barker would like to create a designer salmon, so that peo- ple could have a different flavor every day of the week."

"That's not a bad idea, Throckmorton. Do you mind if I bor- row it.

"Only if you claim full responsibility for creating such a monster."

"The professor worries too much." He gestured toward the fish tank. "That fine fellow is proof there is no need to create a transgenic fish of monstrous size. And as he said, biotech fish are less able to sur- vive in the wild. It's easy enough to sterilize the fish so they won't replicate themselves."

"Yes, but sterilization techniques are less than one hundred per- cent reliable. You might not be so casual after you hear the news that the Trouts have brought me."

Throckmorton asked the Trouts to tell their story and run the video again. When they were finished, he said, "What do you make of it, Frederick?"

Barker shook his head. "I'm afraid I share some blame. I got the message from Neal when he called. But I never called him back."

"And what do you think?"

Barker's smile had disappeared. "I would say that it was impossi- ble, if it had not been witnessed by two qualified observers and video- taped. This has all the earmarks of a transgenic experiment gone wrong."

"Who would be so irresponsible as to let a fish like this escape into the wild? Apparently, there are others, if we are to believe the fish- ermen. We must get someone in the field immediately."

"I agree wholeheartedly. It's evident that this white devilfish is al- ready competing with the wild species for food. Whether it can pass along its genes is another question."

"That's what has bothered me all along about this whole issue, its unpredictability," Throckmorton said.

Barker glanced at his watch. "What is not unpredictable is my next class, which meets in a few minutes." He bowed slightly and shook hands with Paul and Gamay. "I'm sorry that I have to run. A pleasure meeting you."

"Your colleague is fascinating," Gamay said. "He looks more like a professional wrestler than a geneticist."

"Oh yes, Frederick is one of a kind. The female students love him.

He rides a motorcycle around the city, which they think is very cool."

"Is there something wrong with his eyes?"

"You noticed the sunglasses, of course. Frederick tends toward al- binism. As you can see from his lack of complexion, he avoids the sun, and his eyes are very sensitive to light. His handicap hasn't hindered his accomplishments, though. Everything I said about his brilliance is true, though, unlike me, he is putting his expertise to work in the private sector. He'll probably become a millionaire. Anyway, we must both thank you for alerting us. I'll start immediately to put a field team together/'

"We've taken enough of your time/' Gamay said. "Not at all. It's been a treat to talk to you. I hope we'll meet again." Throckmorton asked if he could copy the video. Minutes later Paul and Gamay were in a cab headed down the hill to the hotel. "Interesting afternoon/' Paul said.

"More so than you think. While Throckmorton and I were copy- ing the tape, I asked him who Barker's employers were. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have another lead to chase down. He said the com- pany was named Aurora."

"Pretty name," Paul said with a yawn. "What did he say about it?" Gamay smiled mysteriously. "He said Aurora is a subsidiary of a larger company."

Paul blinked. "Don't tell me-" She nodded. "Oceanus."

He thought about it for a moment, then said, "I tried to look at this as if I were creating a computer graphic, but the problem is more like a kid's picture puzzle. Barker is one dot, the guys who tried to drive us off the road are another dot. If we connect the two, we can start to sketch out a picture. So our course of action is very clear." "And what might that be?" Gamay said with skepticism. Paul gave her a lopsided grin. "We have to come up with more dots."

THE LOCATION RYAN had suggested for a rendezvous was

only a few minutes from NUMA headquarters. Austin drove along the George Washington Parkway to a sign that said THEODORE ROOSEVELT ISLAND. He parked his car, walked over the footbridge that spanned a narrow waterway called Little River and followed a path to the Roosevelt Memorial, a wide plaza edged by low benches. Ryan was standing with his back to the bronze statue of the president, apparently keeping an eye out for Austin.

Ryan waved him over. "Thanks for coming, Kurt." Ryan turned and gazed up at the statue. TR stood with legs wide apart, fist raised high in the air. "01' Teddy up there got me into this crazy business. He put millions of acres under federal protection, saved endangered birds from the plume hunters and made the Grand Canyon a national park. He wasn't afraid to push the law to its lim- its when he thought he was acting in the public good. Whenever I have doubts about what I'm doing, I think of this guy staring down the fat cats."

Austin couldn't help feeling that Ryan was posing for a photo op. "It's hard to believe you have doubts about anything, Marcus."

"Oh I do, believe me. Especially when I think of the task I've carved out for myself: Protecting the world's oceans and the critters that live in them."

"If I recall my mythology, the sea-god position has been filled for the last few thousand years."

Ryan smirked like a guilty child. "Yeah, I guess I do sound god- like at times. But mythology also tells us that gods commonly appoint themselves to their positions."

"I'll remember that if I ever lose my job at NUMA. Therri said you wanted to talk to me about something important."

"Yes," Ryan said, looking past Austin's shoulder. "There she is now, as a matter of fact."

Therri was walking across the plaza with a young man Austin guessed to be in his early twenties. He had reddish-brown skin, a broad face and high cheekbones.

"Good to see you again, Kurt," Therri said, extending her hand. Her manner was businesslike in front of the other men, but her eyes told Austin she hadn't forgotten the goodnight kiss in Copenhagen; or at least that's what he hoped they said. "This is Ben Nighthawk. Ben is a research assistant in our office."

Ryan suggested that they move off to the side of the memorial. When he was sure they could talk out of the earshot of any wander- ing tourists, he wasted no time. "Ben has uncovered some important information on Oceanus," he said.