Greywolf sighed.

'Busnel gave a long spiel about neural research and came to the conclusion that the procedure was flawed. There was evidently some critical factor that had been overlooked or misjudged. Back on board we held council and the decision was taken to get rid of the animals. We released them into the water. Then, when they were a few hundred metres away from the boat, someone pushed the button. The electrode-harness contained explosives to stop the technology falling into the wrong hands. The charge was only small, but it was enough to blast away the equipment. The animals died. We continued on our way.'

Greywolf chewed his lip. Then he looked up at Anawak. 'So there you have it: your Earth Island dolphins. The animals that washed up in France.'

'And after that you…'

'I told them I'd had enough. They tried talking me round, but I'd made up my mind. Of course, they didn't like the idea of one of their best dolphin-handlers quitting for undisclosed reasons – that kind of thing always attracts the attention of the press. So we talked, and in the end we came to an agreement. I got some cash, and they discharged me on the grounds of ill-health. I was a combat diver, you see, and you can't do that with a heart defect. No one asks awkward questions if they think there's something wrong with you. So they let me go.'

Anawak was gazing out across the bay.

'I'm not a scientist like you,' Greywolf said softly, 'I understand a bit about dolphins and how to handle them, but neurology means nothing to me. I can't stand to see anyone getting too interested in whales or dolphins. It winds me up just to see them taking photos. I can't help it.'

'Shoemaker thinks you're still mad at us.'

Greywolf shook his head. 'For a while I thought whale-watching was OK, but I couldn't handle it. I got myself thrown out- I made you guys do the hard part for me.'

Anawak rested his chin on his hands. It all looked so beautiful – the bay, the mountains, the island. 'Jack,' he said, 'you're going to have to revise your opinions. It's happening again. Those whales aren't taking revenge. They're under someone's control. Someone's busy with their very own MKO. Your navy stuff is nothing compared to this.'

In the end they left the jetty and walked in silence through the woods towards Tofino. Greywolf stopped outside Davie's Whaling Station. 'Just before I quit, I heard the nuclear whale programme had taken a big-leap forward. They mentioned a name. It was something to do with neurology and neural network computers. They said that to exercise full control over the animals you needed to know about Professor Kurzweil. Maybe it's nothing, but I just thought I'd tell you.'

CHATEAU WHISTLER, Canada

It was early evening when Weaver knocked on Johanson's door. She tried the handle, but the room was locked.

She knew that he was back from Nanaimo. So she took the elevator to the lobby and found him in the bar, bent over some diagrams with the Geomar scientist and Stanley Frost.

'Hi.' Weaver walked over to them. 'Any progress?'

'We're stumped,' said Bohrmann. 'Still too many unknowns.'

'Hey, we'll get there in the end,' growled Frost. 'God doesn't play dice.'

'That's what Einstein said,' objected Johanson. 'And he was wrong.'

'I'm telling you, God does not play dice?

She tapped Johanson on the shoulder. 'Apologies for the interruption, but could we have a quick chat?'

Johanson hesitated. 'Right now? We haven't finished with Stan's scenario yet. It's pretty strong stuff.

'Sorry.'

'Why don't you join us?'

'This'll only take a moment. Can't they do without you for a second?' She smiled at the others. 'And then I'll join you, I promise. You can show me as many simulations as you like, and I'll bug you with comments.'

'Sounds good to me,' grinned Frost.

'Which way now?' asked Johanson, as they headed away from the table. The lobby?'

'Is it important?'

'Important doesn't begin to cover it.'

'OK.'

They went outside. 'The sun was low in the sky, and as it set, it bathed the Chateau and the snowy peaks of the Rockies in shades of red. A helicopter was perched on the forecourt, like an enormous gnat. They strolled in the direction of Whistler village. Suddenly Weaver felt embarrassed. The others were probably thinking that she and Johanson shared a secret, but in fact she just wanted his advice. It was up to him when he decided to share his theory with the committee but to make that decision he needed to hear her news.

'How was it in Nanaimo?'

'Pretty scary.'

'I heard killer crabs have invaded Long Island.'

'Crabs packed with killer algae,' said Johanson. 'Like in Europe, only more toxic. Oliviera, Fenwick and Rubin have started to analyse the poison.' He cleared his throat. 'I don't mean to be impatient, but I thought you had something to tell me.'

'I've been studying satellite data all day – comparing radar scans to rnultispectral images. I would have liked to see more data from Bauer's drifting profilers, but they've stopped transmitting. In any case, there's no real doubt. I'm guessing you know about oceanic gyres?'

'A little.'

'The sea level rises along the perimeter of a gyre. That applies to the Gulf Stream too – it's a boundary current Bauer was worried that a change was taking place. He couldn't locate the North Atlantic chimneys, where the water normally plummets. He was sure that something was disturbing the flow of the currents, but he couldn't say what.'

'And?'

She turned to him. I've done all the calculations, compared the data, checked it, recalculated, compared it again, rechecked it and started from the beginning. The sea level has dropped in the Gulf Stream.'

Johanson frowned. 'You mean…'

'The gyre has altered its rotation. If you look at the multispectral scans, it's clear that the temperature is dropping as well. There's no doubt about it, Sigur. We're looking at another ice age. The Gulf Stream has stopped flowing. Something's stopped it.'

SECURITY COUNCIL

'It's a goddamn outrage. And someone's going to pay!'

The President was baying for blood. The first thing he'd done on arrival at Offutt Air Force Base was to convene a National Security Council meeting over a secure video link. The teleconference linked Washington, Offutt and the Chateau. The Vice-President was sitting in the White House Situation Room, together with the defense secretary, the defense secretary's deputy, the secretary of state, the assistant to the President for National Security Affairs, the head of the FBI and the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff. Across the Potomac River, deep in the windowless interior of the Counter-terrorist Center at CIA headquarters, the director of Central Intelligence, the deputy director for Operations, and the director of the CTC and head of Special Forces, were also on screen. Commander-in-chief of the United States Central Command General Judith Li and deputy director of the CIA Jack Vanderbilt completed the line-up. They were sitting in Chateau Whistler's makeshift war room, watching the other members of the council on the long row of monitors. Most wore expressions of grim determination, though some seemed at a loss.

The President didn't bother to disguise his wrath. That afternoon the Vice-President had suggested that the White House chief of staff should convene an emergency cabinet, but the President was determined to chair plenary meetings of the Security Council himself. He had no intention of giving up the reins.

That suited Li perfectly.

Li's voice wasn't the most influential in the hierarchy of advisers. The highest-ranking military position was held by the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the President's principal military adviser. Next came his deputy. Every last idiot had a deputy. All the same, Li knew that the President appreciated her advice, which made her ecstatically proud. Her ambitions for the future were at the forefront of her mind. Even now, as she stared in concentration at the screens, she hadn't lost sight of her dream. For the moment she was only commander-in-chief, but soon she'd be chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The current chairman was on the brink of retirement, and it was no secret that his deputy was a dud. From there, she'd switch to politics and do a stint in the Pentagon or as secretary of state. And then she could run for President. If she got things right – which meant acting 100 per cent in the interests of America – her election was as good as guaranteed. The world was teetering on the abyss, but Li was on her way up.