"Is something like that a possibility?" Gamay said.

"Not with contained fish-farming, but I have no doubt that trans- genic fish would escape if they were placed in open-water cages. They are aggressive and hungry. Like a convict who yearns for free- dom, they'd find a way. The government fisheries lab in Vancouver is as tight as Fort Knox. We've got electronic alarms, security guards, double-screened tanks to keep fish from getting away. But a private company might be less cautious."

Gamay nodded. "We've had invasions of foreign species in U.S. waters, with potentially damaging results. The Asian swamp eel has been found in some states-it's a voracious creature that can slither across dry land. Asian carp are in the Mississippi River, and there are worries they can get into Lake Michigan. They grow up to four feet long, and there have been stories of them jumping out of the water and knocking people out of boats, but the real worry is the way they suck up plankton like a vacuum cleaner. Then there's the lion fish, a real cutie. They carry spines that can poison humans, and they com- pete for food with native species."

"You make an excellent point, but the situation with transgenic fish is even more complicated than a competition for food. Some of my colleagues are more worried about the 'Trojan gene' effect. You recall the story of the Trojan horse, naturally."

"The wooden horse filled with Greek soldiers," said Paul. "The Trojans thought it was a gift, brought it inside their city walls-and that was the end of Troy."

"An appropriate analogy in this case," Throckmorton said.

He tapped his finger against the cover of a thick staple-bound re- port that was lying on the table. "This was published by English Na- ture, the group that advises the British government on conservation matters. It contains the results of two studies. As a result of the find- ings, English Nature is opposing release oftransgenic fish unless they are made infertile, and a House of Lords committee wants an out- right ban on GM fish. The first study was done at Purdue Univer- sity, where researchers found that transgenic male fish have a

fourfold advantage in breeding. Larger fish are preferred as mates by females."

"Who says size isn't important?" Paul said, with his usual dry humor.

"It happens to be very important in fish. The researchers looked at the Japanese medaka, whose transgenic offspring were twenty- two percent larger than their siblings. These big males made up

eighty percent of the breeding against twenty percent for the smaller males."

Gamay leaned forward with her brow furrowed. "It would even- tually be a disaster for the wild population."

"Worse than a disaster. More like a catastrophe. If you had one transgenic fish in a population of 100,000, GM fish would become fifty percent of the population within sixteen generations."

"Which isn't long in fish terms," Gamay commented.

Throckmorton nodded. "You can cut that time even further. Com- puter models show that if you introduced sixty DNA-altered fish into a population of sixty thousand, it would take only forty genera- tions to pollute the gene pool to extinction."

"You said there was a second study." Throckmorton rubbed his hands together.

"Oh yes, it gets even better. The researchers at universities in Al- abama and California gave salmon growth-promoter genes to some Channel catfish. They found that these transgenic fish were better at avoiding predators than were their natural counterparts."

"To put it succinctly, you think one of these superfish might get into the wild, where it would outbreed and outlive the natural species, quickly driving them to extinction."

"That's it." Paul shook his head in disbelief. "Given what you've just told us," he said, "why would any government or company be fooling around with genetic dynamite like this?"

"I understand what you're saying, but in the hands of a profes- sional, dynamite can be extremely useful." Throckmorton rose from his chair. "Come see, Dr. Frankenstein's workbench is right this way."

He led them to the other side of the lab. The fish swimming in the tanks ranged in size from finger-length to a couple of feet long. He stopped in front of one of the larger tanks. A silver-scaled fish with a dark ridge along its spine was swimming slowly from one end of the tank to the other.

"Well, what do you think of our latest genetically modified mon- ster?"

Gamay leaned close so that her nose was inches from the glass. "Looks like any other well-fed salmon you might see swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe a little more girth around the middle than normal."

"Appearances can be deceiving. How old would you say this hand- some fellow is?"

"I'd guess it's about a year old."

"Actually, only a few weeks ago, it was a mere egg."

"Impossible."

"I would agree with you if I hadn't played midwife at its birth. What you're looking at is an eating machine. We've managed to soup up its metabolism. If that creature were placed in the wild, it would quickly out-eat the native stocks. Its little brain shouts one message over and over. 'Feed me, I'm hungry!' Watch."

Throckmorton opened a cooler, extracted a bucket of small bait fish and threw a handful into the tank. The salmon pounced on the fish, and within moments it had devoured its meal. Then it devoured the floating shreds.

"I practically grew up on a fishing boat," Paul said with wide eyes. "I've seen shark go for a hooked cod and schools of blues drive bait fish onto the beach, but I've never come across anything like this. Are you sure you didn't insert some piranha genes into your little baby?"

Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller
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