Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"Or aphrodisiacs," Gunn grinned.

"Or fertility drugs," threw in Pitt.

"If this red tide goes unchecked and expands without any deterrent throughout the oceans, covering the surface in one massive blanket of toxic dinoflagellates," Chapman explained, "the world's supply of oxygen will diminish to a level too low to support life."

Gunn said, "You've written a grim scenario, Dr. Chapman."

"Horror story might be a more apt description," Pitt said quietly.

"Can't they be destroyed by chemical applications?" Giordino asked.

"A pesticide?" stated Chapman. "Conceivably, it could make matters worse. Better to cut it off early at the head."

"Do you have a time frame for this disaster?" Pitt asked Chapman.

"Unless the flow of contamination into the sea can be stopped dead within the next four months, it will be too late. By then, the spread will be too enormous to control. It will also be self-sufficient, able to feed off itself, passing on the chemical poison it absorbed from the Niger to its offspring." He paused to press a button on the remote control and a colored graph appeared onscreen. "Computer projections indicate millions will begin dying by slow suffocation within eight months, certainly not more than ten. Young children with small lung capacities will be the first to go, too starved for air to cry, their skin turning blue as they go into irreversible coma. It won't be a pretty picture for those few to die last."

Giordino looked incredulous. "Almost impossible to accept a dead world that ran out of oxygen."

Pitt stood and moved closer to the screen, studying the cold numbers that indicated the time left for mankind. Then he turned and stared at Sandecker. "So what this all boils down to is you want AI and Rudi and I to run a compact research vessel up the river and analyze water samples until we hunt down the source of the contamination that's forming the red tide. Then figure a way to turn off the spigot."

Sandecker nodded. "In the meantime we here at NUMA gill work at developing a substance to neutralize the red tides."

Pitt walked over and studied a map of the Niger River that was hung on a wall. "And if we don't find the origin in Nigeria?"

"Then you keep heading upriver until you do."

"Through the middle of Nigeria, northeast to where the giver separates the nations of Benin and Niger and then into Mali."

"If that's what it takes," said Sandecker.

"What is the political situation in these countries?" asked Pitt.

"I have to admit it's slightly unstable."

"What do you call `slightly unstable'?" Pitt asked skeptically.

"Nigeria," Sandecker lectured, "Africa's most populous nation at 120 million, is in the middle of an upheaval. The new democratic government was tossed out by the military last month, the eighth overthrow in only twenty years, not to mention countless unsuccessful bids. The inner countryside is torn by the usual ethnic wars and bad blood between Muslims and Christians. The opposition is assassinating government workers who are accused of corruption and mismanagement "

"Sounds like a fun place," muttered Giordino. "I can't wait to smell the gunsmoke."

Sandecker ignored him. "The People's Republic of Benin is under a very tight dictatorship. President Ahmed Tougouri rules by terror. Across the river in Niger, the head of state is propped up by Libya's Muammar Qaddafi, who is after the country's uranium mines. The place is a festering crisis. Rebel guerrillas everywhere. I suggest you steer in the middle of the river when you pass between them."

"And Mali," Pitt probed.

"President Tahir is a decent man, but he's chained to General Zateb Kazim who runs a three-member Supreme Military Council that is bleeding the country dry. Kazim is a very nasty customer and quite unusual in that he's a virtual dictator who operates behind the front of an honest government"

Pitt and Giordino exchanged cynical smiles and wearily shook their heads. . .

"Do you two have a problem?" inquired Sandecker.

"A leisurely cruise up the Niger River,"' Pitt mildly repeated the Admiral's words. "All we have to do is merrily sail 1000 kilometers of river that's crawling with bloodthirsty rebels hiding in ambush along the shore, dodge armed patrol boats, and refuel along the way without being arrested and executed as foreign spies. And this while casually collecting chemical samples of the water. No problem, Admiral, no problem at all, except it's damn well suicidal."

"Yes," Sandecker said imperturbably, "it might look that way, but with a little luck you should come out of this without the least inconvenience."

"Watching my head blown off seems more than an inconvenience."

"Have you thought about using satellite sensors?" asked Gunn.