He glanced at the top page of his print-out. He’d written a detailed introduction. Now, after three hours’ sleep, it suddenly struck him as impenetrably complicated. He’d been satisfied with it in the early hours of the morning, when he was almost too exhausted to think, but now…
He laid aside his notes, and felt relieved of a burden. His self-assurance returned to him like a cavalry ready for battle, flags flying and trumpets blaring. He took a step forward and, once he was sure he had his audience’s attention, he said, ‘It’s very simple, really. Dealing with the implications will be tricky, but the basic principle is logical and straightforward. We’re not dealing with a series of natural disasters. And we’re not doing battle with any terrorist organisation or rogue state. Not even evolution is to blame.’ He paused. ‘No. What we’re experiencing is the fabled war of the worlds - a war between two worlds that we’ve always thought of as one because they’re bound together. All this time we’ve been gazing upwards in anticipation of an alien species arriving from space, when intelligent life-forms have been with us all along, inhabiting part of the planet that we’ve never seriously attempted to explore. Two radically different systems of intelligent life coexist on the Earth, and they’ve done so peacefully until now. While one has been observing the development of the other since time immemorial, the other has no concept of the complexity of the underwater world - or, if you like, the alien universe sharing our globe. Outer space is on Earth, in the oceans. We’ve found our extra-terrestrials, and they don’t come from faraway galaxies. They evolved at the bottom of the sea. Life in the water existed long before the first organisms appeared on land, and this species is likely to be far, far older than humanity. I can’t tell you what these creatures look like, or how they live, think or communicate. But we’re going to have to get used to the notion that we’re not the only smart species on this planet. For decades we’ve been systematically destroying the habitat of another intelligent race - and now, ladies and gentlemen, these creatures seem justifiably irate.’
No one spoke.
Vanderbilt’s heavy jowls began to tremble and his entire body shook, as though a peal of laughter was mounting inside him. His fleshy lips twitched and he opened his mouth.
‘I can see how that might be possible,’ said Li.
The deputy director of the CIA looked as though he’d been stabbed in the ribs. His mouth closed. Then he wheezed, ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Oh, yes, I can,’ Li said calmly. ‘I didn’t say Dr Johanson was right, but we should at least hear him out. He must have some evidence to support his claims.’
‘Thank you, General.’ Johanson gave a little bow. ‘I do.’
‘Then please continue. Try to keep your explanation as succinct as possible so that we can start the debate right away.’
Johanson let his eyes rove round the room. Hardly anyone appeared openly dismissive. Most of the faces before him were frozen in surprise. Some looked fascinated, others disbelieving, and a few were impossible to read. Now he had to take the second step. He had to persuade them to assimilate his theory so that they could develop it on their own.
‘Our main problem over the past few days and weeks,’ he said, ‘has lain in trying to connect the various phenomena. In fact, there wasn’t any obvious connection until a jelly-like substance started to crop up. Sometimes it appeared in small quantities, sometimes in larger amounts, but always with the distinguishing characteristic that it disintegrated rapidly on contact with air. Unfortunately the discovery of the jelly only added to the mystery, given its presence in crustaceans, mussels and whales - three types of organism that could hardly be more different. Of course, it might have been some kind of fungus, a jellified version of rabies, an infectious disease like BSE or swine fever. But, if so, why would ships be disappearing or crabs transporting killer algae? There was no sign of the jelly on the worms that infested the slope. They were carrying a different kind of cargo - bacteria that break down hydrates and cause methane gas to rise. Hence the landslide and the tsunami. And what about the mutated species that have been emerging all over the world? Even fish have been behaving oddly. None of it adds up. In that respect, Jack Vanderbilt was right to discern an intelligent mind behind the chaos. But he overestimated our ability - no scientist knows anything like enough about marine ecology to be capable of manipulating it to that extent. People are fond of saying that we know more about space than we do about the oceans. It’s perfectly true, but there’s a simple reason why: we can’t see or move as well in the water as we can in outer space. The Hubble telescope peers effortlessly into different galaxies, but the world’s strongest floodlight only illuminates a dozen square metres of seabed. An astronaut in a spacesuit can move with almost total freedom, but even the most sophisticated divesuit won’t stop you being crushed to death beyond a certain depth. AUVs and ROVs are only operational if the conditions are right. We don’t have the physical constitution or the technology to deposit billions of worms on underwater hydrates, let alone the requisite knowledge to engineer them for a habitat that we barely understand. Besides, there are all the other phenomena: deep-sea cables being destroyed at the bottom of the ocean by forces other than the underwater slide; plagues of jellyfish and mussels rising from the abyssal plains. The simplest explanation would be to see these developments as part of a plan, but such a plan could only be the work of a species that knows the ocean as intimately as we do the land - a species that lives in the depths and plays the dominant role in that particular universe.’
‘Have I understood you correctly?’ Rubin asked excitedly. ‘You’re claiming that we share this planet with another intelligent race?’
‘Yes.’
‘If that’s so,’ said Peak, ‘why haven’t we heard of or seen them before?’
‘Because they don’t exist,’ Vanderbilt muttered testily.
‘Wrong,’ said Johanson vigorously. ‘I can think of at least three good reasons why we’ve never come across them. First, there’s the phenomenon of the invisible fish.’
‘The what?’
‘Most deep-sea creatures can’t see any better than we can, but they’ve refined their other senses. Their bodies respond to the slightest change in pressure. Sound waves are detected over hundreds, if not thousands of kilometres. No submersible could ever get in viewing range without attracting their attention. In theory, millions of fish could be living in a particular region but if they stuck to the shadows, we’d never find out. If that’s true of ordinary fish, how are we supposed to spot intelligent beings? If they don’t want us to see them, they won’t let us! Second, we have no idea what these creatures might look like. So far, we’ve filmed a few peculiar phenomena - a blue cloud, flashes that look a bit like lightning, and an odd thing on the Norwegian continental slope. Are those signs of alien intelligence? And what about the jelly? Or the noises that Murray Shankar can’t identify? And, finally, the third reason. At one time we were convinced that life was only viable in the upper layers of the ocean, where sunlight penetrates. Now we know that the whole ocean is teeming with life, even at depths of eleven thousand metres. Many organisms don’t need to seek out shallower water. In fact, most wouldn’t survive the transition - the water temperature would be too high, the pressure too low, and they wouldn’t find their usual food. We, on the other hand, are well acquainted with the surface of the water, but only a handful of robots and scientists in bulky submersibles have ever visited the depths. Imagine an alien spaceship lowering cameras to Earth. Each captures only a few square metres at a time. The first zooms in on the Kalahari desert. The second takes a snap of the Mongolian steppes. A third is lowered over Antarctica, and the fourth hovers over a city and films just a few square metres of grass and a dog peeing up against a tree. What impression would the aliens have? No sign of intelligent life, though primitive life-forms are sporadically present.’
‘They’d have to have some kind of technology to accomplish all this,’ said Oliviera.
??
?I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Johanson. ‘It strikes me that there’s an alternative to technology as we know it. We use materials to create our equipment and tools - houses, vehicles, radios, clothes and so on. But sea water is far more aggressive than air. Only one thing matters in the depths: optimal adaptation. Living organisms are usually fantastically well adapted, so you could imagine a technology based entirely on biology. If we’re assuming this race is highly intelligent, then it seems reasonable to suppose that it’s also creative and has a detailed knowledge of the biology of marine organisms. I mean, we’re doing it too, if you think about it. For thousands of years we’ve been using other life-forms as part of our inventions. Hannibal crossed the Alps with a herd of living trucks. Horses are a kind of sentient motorbike. We’ve been training animals throughout the course of history, but now we’re able to genetically modify them as well. We’re already cloning sheep. What if we take the idea a bit further? What if we imagine a race that has based its culture and technology entirely on biology? They’d simply breed whatever they need, whether for daily life, transport - or warfare.’
‘God help us,’ groaned Vanderbilt.
‘Of course, humans use living organisms for warfare too,’ continued Johanson, as if he hadn’t heard. ‘Scientists are growing strains of Ebola and other viruses, and experimenting with smallpox. For the moment, the conventional method is to cram them into warheads, but it’s not the most straightforward way of doing things, and even satellite-guided missiles don’t always hit their mark. Dispatching a pack of diseased dogs might be more effective. Or you could use a battalion of birds–or insects, for that matter. Just imagine trying to defend yourself against a swarm of virus-infested flies or an army of infected ants…Or against millions of crabs, transporting killer algae.’ He paused. ‘The worms on the continental slopes were genetically engineered. It’s not surprising that we’d never seen them before. They didn’t exist. Their sole purpose is to convey bacteria into the ice. They’re annelid cruise missiles, if you like - biological weapons developed by a race of beings whose entire culture is based on manipulating organic life. It gives us an explanation for all the various mutations. In some cases, organisms have been modified only slightly, while others are new creations. Take the jelly-like tissue. It’s a highly versatile biological product, but it certainly wasn’t arrived at via standard evolution. Like the worms, it’s there for a purpose - to control other living creatures by invading their neural networks. It’s somehow affecting the behaviour of live whales. The crabs and lobsters are a slightly different story. The jelly steers their movements, but they’re not actually alive. They’re empty shells with incomplete nervous systems - organic spacesuits for the journey on to land.’
‘This jelly,’ said Rubin, ‘couldn’t a scientist have developed it instead?’
‘Unlikely.’ Anawak joined the discussion. ‘Dr Johanson’s explanation makes more sense. If this were a human project, what would be the point of attacking via the depths? That’s a pretty big detour.’
‘Because killer algae are found in the sea.’
‘Why use killer algae in the first place? Anyone capable of creating a strain of algae more toxic than Pfiesteria would surely be able to find some pathogen that doesn’t live in water. Why breed crabs if ants, birds or rats would do the job?’
‘Rats can’t trigger a tsunami.’
‘That jelly was concocted in a lab,’ insisted Vanderbilt. ‘It’s a synthetic substance, which—’
‘I don’t buy it,’ interrupted Anawak. ‘Not even the navy would be capable of that, and from what I’ve heard, it’s pretty darned good at messing with animals.’
Vanderbilt’s head was shaking so fast that he looked as if he was having a convulsion.
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I’m referring to a programme of experiments codenamed MKO.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘Well, for years now the navy has been experimenting with dolphins and other marine mammals, trying to manipulate their behaviour by putting electrodes in their—’
‘Bullshit.’
‘It didn’t work, though, or at least not in the way they’d intended, so now they’re using Ray Kurzweil’s ideas to—’
‘Kurzweil?’
‘A leading authority on artificial intelligence,’ Fenwick explained. Suddenly he had become animated. ‘He came up with a vision of the future that pushed back the boundaries of current neural research. If you want to establish how much we know about the workings of the brain…in fact, better still, if you want to understand how much another intelligent species might know about the brain, you should study his work.’ Fenwick was flushed with excitement. ‘That’s it! Kurzweil’s neural network computer! You could really be on to something.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Vanderbilt, ‘but I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Really?’ Li smirked. ‘I thought the CIA took a professional interest in brainwashing.’
Vanderbilt snorted. ‘Can anyone tell me what he’s talking about? Because I’ll be darned if I know. Is someone going to explain?’
‘The neural network computer is a blueprint for creating a perfect replica of an individual brain,’ said Oliviera. ‘Our brains are made up of billions of nerve cells, or neurons. Each neuron is connected to countless others. They communicate using electrical pulses, allowing our brains to continually update, reorder and archive what we know, learn and feel. Every single second of our lives, even when we’re asleep, our brains are being reconfigured. Modern scanning technology gives us pictures of the brain that are accurate to within one millimetre of detail. We can watch how the brain thinks and feels, and which neurons are activated when, for example, we kiss or experience pain or recall a past event.’
‘The scans show which parts of the brain do what, so the navy knows where to place the electrical signals to achieve a particular response.’ Anawak had taken over. ‘But they aren’t detailed enough. If you think of them as maps, you can only see objects in excess of fifty square metres. Kurzweil predicts that we’ll soon have the ability to scan an entire brain, mapping every single synaptic connection and every neurotransmitter, and detailing the concentration of every chemical. We’ll have a complete model of every cell.’
‘Gee,’ said Vanderbilt.
‘And once you’ve gathered all that information,’ said Oliviera, ‘you’ll be able to install the entire brain and all its functions in a computer, which would replicate that particular person’s thought processes, memories and abilities. You’d have a kind of clone.’
Li raised her hand. ‘I can assure you that MKO hasn’t reached that stage,’ she said. ‘At the present time, Kurzweil’s neural network computer remains just a vision.’
‘Jude!’ Vanderbilt whispered, aghast. ‘What are you thinking? This stuff is classified - it’s none of their business.’
‘MKO is based purely on military necessity,’ Li said calmly. ‘If it didn’t exist, we’d have to sacrifice human lives instead. We can’t always choose our wars, as I’m sure you’ve realised. The programme is currently at an impasse, but I’m confident it’s merely a temporary hitch. We’re well on the way to creating artificial intelligence. In medicine, it won’t be long before we can replace organs with microchips. Implants are already allowing blind people to regain some of their sight. Entirely new forms of intelligence will emerge.’ She fixed her gaze on Anawak. ‘That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it? All the evidence would seem to support the Middle East theory, if only humanity were as advanced as Kurzweil predicted. But we’re not. This jelly does the job of a neural network computer, and no living scientist is capable of inventing it.’
‘In practice, a neural network computer would be in control of every thought process,’ said Anawak. ‘Assuming that’s how the jelly functions, it doesn’t simply steer a creature, it becomes that creature. It becomes part of its brain. The cells of the substance assume the function of brain cells. Th
ey either add to the capacity of a brain—’
‘Or they replace it,’ chimed Oliviera. ‘Leon’s right. An organism like that can’t come from any human lab.’
Johanson’s heart was pounding as he listened. They were engaging with his theory. With every word that was spoken, his hypothesis gained weight. While the debate raged around him, he envisaged a biological computer that could copy every neuron in the brain.
Roche jumped to his feet. ‘Perhaps you could explain one thing, Dr Johanson. How do you account for these underwater life-forms knowing so much about us? I dare say it’s an impressive theory, but how could an inhabitant of the ocean depths obtain that kind of knowledge?’
Johanson saw Vanderbilt and Rubin nodding. ‘That’s quite straightforward,’ he said. ‘Whenever we dissect a fish, we do it in our world, not in the water. Why shouldn’t these creatures find out about us in their world? Drownings happen all the time - and these beings are certainly capable of fetching more bodies, should they need them. Having said that, it’s a valid point. How much do they really know about us? I first started to come round to the idea of an organised attack just before the shelf collapsed in Europe. Oddly enough, it never occurred to me that humans might have been responsible. The strategy seemed too outlandish. Wiping out large swathes of the infrastructure in northern Europe was a stroke of genius, and had serious consequences for humanity, but using whales to sink small craft strikes me as naïve. Poisonous jellies are never going to stop people plundering fish from the ocean. Shipping accidents cause a lot of damage, but I seriously doubt whether swarms of mutated organisms are capable of paralysing international trade. But it does make one thing clear: they know a lot about boats. They’re familiar with anything that comes into direct contact with their habitat, but they’re not so well informed about dry land. Dispatching killer algae in an army of crabs shows excellent military planning, but the first attempt, involving Brittany lobsters, wasn’t as effective. They clearly hadn’t reckoned with the pressure difference. The jelly was introduced into the lobsters in the depths–that is, in conditions of high pressure. Once it reached the surface, it expanded, and some of the lobsters exploded before they came into contact with humans.’