The third, a bald man with heavy jowls and the only one wearing a tie, turned out to be Lund's immediate superior, Clifford Stone. He came from Scotland, and was head of the exploration and production unit in charge of the new project. He gave Johanson a distant nod. He didn't seem overjoyed at the biologist's arrival but, then, nothing about him suggested that he ever smiled.

Johanson exchanged a few pleasantries, declined the offer of coffee and took a seat.

Hvistendahl picked up a stack of papers. 'Let's get straight to business. You're familiar with the situation. We're having difficulty gauging whether the whole thing spells trouble or whether we're overreacting. I imagine you're aware of some of the regulations governing the oil industry?'

'The North Sea Conference,' Johanson said, guessing.

Hvistendahl nodded. 'That's one side of it. But we're also subject to other pressures – laws for the protection of the environment, technological limitations and, of course, public opinion, which sets the tone on many of the unregulated issues. When it comes down to it, we have to take account of anything and everything. We've got Greenpeace and a host of other organisations breathing down our necks – and we don't have a problem with that. We know the risks involved in drilling new boreholes, and what to expect when we're planning a new project, so we factor in plenty of time.'

'In other words, we're pretty good at handling things ourselves,' Stone interjected.

'Generally speaking, yes,' said Hvistendahl. 'Not every project makes it to completion, though. There are all the usual reasons – like finding out that the sediment is unstable, that we're in danger of drilling through a gas pocket or even that the water depth and current don't lend themselves to certain types of platform, you know the sort of thing – but in most cases we realise fairly early on what we can and can't do. Tina tests the technology at Marintek, we analyse lots of different samples, check out the conditions down there, get an expert opinion, then start building.'

Johanson crossed one leg over the other. 'But this time there's a worm in the system,' he said.

Hvistendahl laughed uneasily. 'You could say that.'

'Assuming they're relevant,' said Stone, 'which, in my opinion, they're not.'

'What makes you so sure?'

'Worms are nothing unusual. We find them everywhere.'

'Not this species.'

'What makes them so special? Sure, they eat hydrates,' he glared at Johanson, 'but if I remember rightly, your friends in Kiel said that wasn't anything to get worked up about. Or have I missed something?'

'That's not quite what they said. They said-'

'The worms can't destabilise the ice.'

'They're eroding it.'

'Yes, but they can't destabilise it!'

Skaugen cleared his throat. It sounded like a minor explosion. 'We called in Dr Johanson so that we could listen to what he has to say,' he said, glancing at Stone, 'not to tell him what we think.'

Stone bit his lip and stared at the table.

'You mentioned some new data, didn't you, Sigur?' said Lund. She smiled encouragingly at the others.

I'll run you through it now,' he offered.

'Bloody worms,' grumbled Stone.

'Well, that's one way of describing them. Anyway, the scientists at Geomar introduced six further specimens into the simulation chamber. Each burrowed head-first into the ice. Next they placed two fresh specimens on a layer of sediment without any hydrates. They didn't react – didn't eat, didn't burrow. Finally they put two specimens on a layer of hydrate-free sediment above a pocket of gas. The worms didn't burrow, but they became agitated.'

'What happened to the worms that burrowed?'

'They're dead.'

'How far did they get?'

'All except one made it through to the gas,' Johanson glanced at Stone, 'but that doesn't mean we can draw any hard and fast conclusions about their behaviour in the wild. The gas on the continental slopes is covered by layers of hydrates measuring tens or even hundreds of metres thick. The layers in the simulator are barely two metres. According to Bohrmann, it's unlikely that the worms could go deeper than three or four metres, but in the chamber there's no way of knowing.'

'What kills them?' asked Hvistendahl.

'They need oxygen and can't get enough in the narrow hole they make.'

'But other worms burrow,' objected Skaugen. He grinned. 'You can tell we did our homework before you got here. We didn't want to look completely stupid.'

Johanson smiled back. He knew he could get on with Skaugen. 'Other species burrow in sediments,' he said, 'in loose ones, where there's plenty of oxygen – and most worms don't dig very deep. But burrowing in hydrates is like moving through concrete. Before long, there's no air, which leads to suffocation.'

'Do you know of other creatures that behave like that?'

'You mean creatures with a death wish?'

'Is that what it is?'

Johanson shrugged. 'That would assume intent, which doesn't fit with worms. They're conditioned to behave as they do.'

'Do animals commit suicide?'

'Of course they do,' said Stone. 'What about lemmings? They throw themselves off cliffs.'

'No, they don't,' said Lund.

'They do!'

Lund placed her hand on his arm. 'Clifford, you're comparing apples and oranges. People liked the idea of lemmings committing suicide so they took it for granted that they did. But when someone looked into it properly, they found out that lemmings are just stupid.'

'Stupid?' Stone turned to Johanson. 'Tell me, Dr Johanson, is it normal scientific practice to call an animal stupid?'

'They are,' Lund continued, unabashed. 'When you get enough of them together, people can be stupid too. The lemmings at the front know that there's a cliff ahead, but the mob behind them surges on, pushing them forward – it's like fans at a rock concert. They carry on shoving each other into the sea until the procession eventually halts.'

Hvistendahl said, 'Some animals are known to sacrifice themselves, though. I guess you'd call it altruism.'

'Yes, but animal altruism always serves a purpose,' replied Johanson. 'Bees are prepared to die after losing their sting because warding off an intruder is good for the colony – or, at any rate, for the queen.'

'So there's no species-related motive for the worms' behaviour?'

'No.'

'Biology lessons aren't going to help.' Stone sighed. 'Just listen to you all! Soon we won't be able to build the unit because you'll have turned the worms into monsters.'

'And another thing,' said Johanson, ignoring him, 'Geomar would like to take a look at the area you've marked for exploration. With Statoil's backing, of course.'

'That's interesting.' Skaugen leaned forward. 'Are they proposing to send someone over?'

'A research vessel. The RV Sonne!'

'That's kind, but they can do all their research on the Thorvaldson.'

'They'll be stopping off on their way to another site. And, in any case, the Sonne has all the latest equipment. They're mainly interested in testing some of the data they got from the simulator.'

'What kind of data?'

'It relates to an increase in methane levels. By burrowing into the ice, the worms set free small quantities of methane, which disperse into the water. The Geomar scientists would like to excavate a couple of loads of sediment with some worms. They want to look at things in their true proportions.'

Skaugen laced his fingers together. 'So far we've only talked about the worms,' he said, 'but have you seen the ominous video footage?'

'Of the thing in the sea?'

Skaugen smiled wanly. 'You make it sound like a horror movie. What do you think it might be?'

I'm not sure whether we should bracket the worms and this… this creature together.'