White Death (NUMA Files 4)

"That the fish will vanish from the sea, but not from the Oceanus holding tanks. Oceanus has been acquiring international patents for its fish genes. The species would be preserved in Oceanus DNA banks."

"Very clever, Rudi," Sandecker said. "Oceanus would have created a monopoly on a major source of the world's protein."

Paul said, "A monopoly like that could be worth billions of dol- lars."

"It goes beyond money," Sandecker said. "Fish protein is a major source of nourishment for much of the world. Food is power."

"This explains why Oceanus is so trigger-happy," Austin said. "If the news got out that they were about to deplete the world's oceans, the adverse public reaction would be overwhelming."

"Certainly sounds plausible," Gunn said. "You establish biofish hatcheries around the world. You could seed the major fish-breeding areas in a short time."

"You wouldn't need many fish," Gamay said. "Each male biofish released could breed with dozens of females. But I'd like to point out there is nothing illegal about dumping fish into the open sea."

"They've been responsible for the loss of two ships and several deaths trying to keep their dirty little secret," Austin said. "They're holding an entire Indian village captive. Last I heard, murder and kidnapping were illegal."

Sandecker said, "But since we can't pin the killings and other crimes on Oceanus yet, we'll have to proceed with care. We can't go through the regular channels. Even the Canadian government can't know of our action. Oceanus could bring the forces of the law down on us. The Special Assignments Team was formed for missions away from official oversight, so it's the perfect vehicle to carry out our plan."

'I didn't know we had a plan," Zavala said.

'Seems obvious to me," the admiral said. "We blow Oceanus and their bloody scheme out of the water, like the pirates they are. I re- alize it won't be easy. Nighthawk's family and relatives could be placed in jeopardy. The fact that we've stumbled onto the scene might make Oceanus act in haste."

"There's another factor we should take into account," Austin said.

"Marcus Ryan is determined to get SOS involved. They could com- promise our plan and put the captives in real danger."

"That settles it," Sandecker said. "We move immediately. We've got to strike at the heart of this thing, that facility in the C

anadian woods. Kurt, did this young Indian give you any inkling where his village was located?"

"Ryan had him on a short leash. Ben seems to have disappeared, but I'll keep trying to find him."

"We can't wait that long." Sandecker's gaze moved over to a scruffy-looking man who had quietly slipped into the room during the discussion and taken a seat in a corner. "Hiram, do you have something for us?"

Hiram Yeager was the director of the vast computer network that covered the entire tenth floor of the NUMA building. The center processed and stored the biggest amount of digital data on the oceans ever assembled under one roof. The brains behind this incredible display of information-gathering power was dressed in his standard uniform, Levi pants and jacket over a pure white T-shirt. His feet were stuffed into a pair of cowboy boots that looked as if they had come from Boot Hill. His long hair was tied in a ponytail, and his gray eyes peered out at the world through wire-rimmed granny glasses.

"Rudi asked me to see if Max would compile a list of places that have experienced sudden fish kills, and to cross-check when possible with nearby fish-processing plants or farms."

"Do you want us to adjourn this meeting to the data center?" Sandecker asked.

Yeager's boyish face beamed with excitement. "Stay right where you are. You're about to see a demonstration of Portable Max."

Sandecker grimaced. He was impatient to get his troops moving and wasn't interested in Yeager's experiments, only their results. But his respect for the computer genius displayed itself in the same un- characteristic patience that allowed Yeager to ignore the NUMA dress code.

Yeager connected a laptop computer to various outlets and to the video screen. He clicked the ON button. Anyone who expected an or- dinary presentation didn't know Hiram Yeager. The image of a woman appeared on the video screen. Her eyes were topaz brown and her hair a shiny auburn, her shoulders bare down to the first hints of her breasts.

It was hard to believe that the lovely woman on the screen was an artificial intelligence system, the end product of the most complex electronic circuitry imaginable. Yeager had recorded his voice, digi- tally altering it to give it a feminine tone, and programmed the face of his wife, a successful artist, into the system. Max tended to be just as testy and petulant as she was.

When he was working in the data center, Yeager sat at a huge console and Max was projected in 3-D onto a giant monitor. "With the Portable Max, you don't have to come to the data center to ask questions. The laptop connects to the mainframe, so I can bring her with me wherever I go. Isn't that right, Max?"

Normally, Max responded to the opening question with a daz- zling smile, but the face on the screen looked as if she had been suck- ing on lemons. Yeager fiddled with the connections and tried again.

"Max? Are you okay?"

The eyes looked down to the bottom of the screen. "I'm feeling rather… flat."

"You look fine from out here," Yeager said.

"Fine?"