Solid Rocket Propellant Mixtures Toxins and Neurotoxins Wire-guided Projectiles "An impressive, if mysterious list," Hitomi said. "However, we have filters to identify smees and high-performance clients. These are individuals attacking firewalls, setting trojans, wild spiders, and so forth. Many of them are looking for credit card lists. But not all." He tapped his little computer, and the images changed.
"We added each of these topics into the honeynet with increasing stickiness, finally including hints of forthcoming research data, which we exposed as e-mail exchanges among scientists in Australia, Germany, Canada, and Russia. We drew a crowd and watched the traffic. We eventually sorted a complex nodal North America--Toronto, Chicago, Ann Arbor, Montreal--with spines to both American coasts, as well as England, France, and Germany. This is a serious Alpha extremist group. They may already have killed a researcher in Paris. We're awaiting data. But the French authorities can be...slow."
Kenner spoke for the first time. "And what's the current delta cellular?"
"Cellular traffic is accelerating. E-mail is heavily encrypted. STF rate is up. It is clear there is a project under way--global in scope, immensely complicated, extremely expensive."
"But we don't know what it is."
"Not yet."
"Then you'd better follow the money."
"We are doing it. Everywhere." Hitomi smiled grimly. "It is only a matter of time before one of these fishes takes the hook."
VANCOUVER
TUESDAY, JUNE 8
4:55 P. M.
Nat Damon signed the paper with a flourish. "I've never been asked to sign a nondisclosure agreement before."
"I'm surprised," the man in the shiny suit said, taking the paper back. "I would have thought it was standard procedure. We don't want our proprietary information to be disclosed." He was a lawyer accompanying his client, a bearded man with glasses, wearing jeans and a work shirt. This bearded man said he was a petroleum geologist, and Damon believed him. He certainly looked like the other petroleum geologists he had dealt with.
Damon's company was called Canada Marine RS Technologies; from a tiny, cramped office outside Vancouver, Damon leased research submarines and remote submersibles to clients around the world. Damon didn't own these subs; he just leased them. The subs were located all over the world--in Yokohama, Dubai, Melbourne, San Diego. They ranged from fully operational fifty-foot submersibles with crews of six, capable of traveling around the globe, to tiny one-man diving machines and even smaller remote robotic vehicles that operated from a tender ship on the surface.
Damon's clients were energy and mining companies who used the subs for undersea prospecting or to check the condition of offshore rigs and platforms. His was a specialized business, and his little office at the back of a boat repair yard did not receive many visitors.
Yet these two men had come through his door just before closing time. The lawyer had done all of the talking; the client merely gave Damon a business card that said Seismic Services, with a Calgary address. That made sense; Calgary was a big city for hydrocarbon companies. Petro-Canada, Shell, and Suncor were all there, and many more. And dozens of small private consulting firms had sprung up there to do prospecting and research.
Damon took a small model down from the shelf behind him. It was a tiny white snub-nosed submarine with a bubble top. He set it on the table in front of the men.
"This is the vehicle I would recommend for your needs," he said. "The RS Scorpion, built in England just four years ago. Two-man crew. Diesel and electric power with closed cycle argon drive. Submerged, it runs on twenty percent oxygen, eighty percent argon. Solid, proven technology: potassium hydroxide scrubber, two-hundred-volt electrical, operational depth of two thousand feet, and 3.8 hours dive time. It's the equivalent of the Japanese Shinkai 2000, if you know that one, or the DownStar 80, of which there are four in the world, but they're all on long leases. The Scorpion is an excellent submarine."
The men nodded, and looked at each other. "And what kind of external manipulators are there?" the bearded man said.
"That's depth dependent," Damon said. "At lesser depths--"
"Let's say at two thousand feet. What external manipulators are there?"
"You want to collect samples at two thousand feet?"
"Actually, we're placing monitoring devices on the bottom."
"I see. Like radio devices? Sending data to the surface?"
"Something like that."
"How large are these devices?"
The bearded man held his hands two feet apart. "About so big."
"And they weigh what?"
"Oh, I don't know exactly. Maybe two hundred pounds."
Damon concealed his surprise. Usually petroleum geologists knew precisely what they were going to place. Exact dimensions, exact weight, exact specific gravity, all that. This guy was vague. But perhaps Damon was just being paranoid. He continued. "And these sensors are for geological work?"
"Ultimately. First we need information on ocean currents, flow rates, bottom temperatures. That kind of thing."
Damon thought:For what? Why did they need to know about currents? Of course, they might be sinking a tower, but nobody would do that in two thousand feet of water.