Boris drank some beer and said, "You were perfectly correct, Dr. Chase, to speak of the hugeness of our planet." He smothered a belch and Chase raised his hand to hide a smile. Boris stared accusingly at his glass and went on, "In one year the volume of water recycled by evaporation is three hundred and eighty thousand cubic kilometers. In one year over one hundred thousand million tons of carbon dioxide are absorbed in the oceans and nearly two hundred thousand million tons are converted into plant material by photosynthesis. To recycle a single molecule of water from the ocean, via the atmosphere, through photosynthesis, and return it to water by animal respiration, takes two million years. The resources are enormous, yes, the processes incredibly complex, yes, but I am always reminded of something Buckminster Fuller once said. You remember, Theo?"
After a moment Theo nodded and said, "The steel ball."
The Russian smiled and swiveled his shorn head toward Chase. "Fuller said that to get a true picture of the depth of the oceans, think of a steel ball the height of a man. Breathe on the surface of the steel ball and your condensed breath represents the average depth of the oceans. You see? While it is true that man lives on a planet that is vast in comparison with himself, he actually
Cheryl took Chase's empty glass and went to make him a fresh drink. He watched her clunk the ice in and pour the whiskey while questions skittered through his mind. As she brought the drink to him, one question zinged out at a tangent and found expression. "This is happening because of the decline in phytoplankton. So what's causing that?"
Theo Detrick roused himself. "Not one specific thing, but a combination of factors, some perhaps operating independently of the others. In my opinion--and it's no more than that--the cause is linked to the buildup of atmospheric carbon dioxide. This could lead to a global increase in temperature, bringing warmer oceans, and the warmer the ocean the less phytoplankton is able to thrive. Another factor might be that photosynthetic activity is inhibited by higher temperatures." He shrugged. "In short, Dr. Chase, I don't really know."
Seawater and carbon dioxide: the reason he was here in the first place. Chase could hardly bring himself to ask the question.
"If this is the cause, Dr. Detrick, how would we know? What are the signs to look for?"
Theo nodded at Boris. "Let's ask the expert," he proposed. "Professor Stanovnik has spent many years studying such causes and their effects at the microbiological level."
Chase felt a tightening of the stomach. It seemed that the circle was closing, each event leading inexorably to the next, forging unbreakable links. He waited for the circle to be completed.
Boris smoothed his knees, rocking slowly back and forth. "It so happens that a colleague of mine, Dr. Astakhov, was interested in this very problem and conducted many field experiments all over the world to discover where the excess carbon dioxide was going to. We've known for sixty years that the amount of C02 is increasing but have been unable to account for more than half of it. Dr. Astakhov's theory was that it was being absorbed in the oceans. However"--he raised and let fall his shoulders in a ponderous shrug--"Dr. Astakhov disappeared before his research was completed. We do not yet have the answer to the mystery of the missing carbon dioxide."
Chase thought for a moment before he spoke, phrasing his question with care. "Is it correct to assume, Professor, that
"Yes," Boris answered without hesitation. "Almost certainly. If it could be shown that the oceans had reached saturation point, then it would be a strong indication that the temperature of seawater is increasing. But as yet we do not have the research data to make such a claim. Had Dr. Astakhov returned--"
"From the Antarctic," Chase said.
"Yes, he was based at Mirnyy Station, and the last report we have . . ." The Russian's dark pouched eyes narrowed and remained fixed on Chase. "How do you know this?" His curiosity bordered on suspicion. "You knew him, Dr. Astakhov?"
"No. But I talked with him. After a fashion."
"In the Antarctic?"
"Yes."
"You speak Russian?"
"No."
"That is most strange, Dr. Chase," Boris said with dramatic softness, like a detective about to trap a suspect by revealing a vital clue. "Peter hardly knew one word of English."
"He didn't know any words," Chase corrected him. "Under the circumstances I don't think his lack of English mattered. I imagine even you would have had some difficulty in understanding him. He was half out of his head, on the verge of coma, with a broken back. In fact it's bloody marvelous we managed any kind of communication at all, but we did."
