Polar Shift

Austin stood on his deck and gazed out at the sparkling ribbon that flowed behind his house. The morning mists had burned away. The Potomac gave off a fragrance of sunbaked mud and wildflowers. Sometimes he imagined that the river had its own Lorelei, a sultry-eyed, Southern version of the Germanic siren whose singing lured Rhine rivermen to their death.

Heeding her irresistible call, he hauled his twenty-one-foot-long Maas racing scull from under the boathouse and eased it down the ramp to the water's edge. He slipped into the open cockpit, tucked his feet under the clogs bolted to the footrests, pushed his sliding seat back and forth a few times to limber up his abdominal muscles and adjusted the outrigger oarlocks for maximum efficiency.

Then he pushed off into the river, dipped his Concept 2 composite oars into the water, leaned forward and pulled the handles back, using the weight of his body. The nine-foot oars sent the needle-sharp scull flying through the water. He increased his rowing rate until the dial of the StrokeCoach told him he was doing his usual cruising speed of twenty-eight strokes per minute.

Rowing was a daily ritual and his main form of exercise. It emphasized technique over power, and the melding of mind and body necessary to send the light craft skimming over the water was a way to exclude the chatter of the outside world and to bring his concentration into sharp focus.

As he glided past stately old mansions, he tried to make sense out of the events that whirled around in his head like the whirlpool currents that had nearly drawn the Trouts to their deaths. One fact seemed indisputable. Someone had found a way to stir up the oceans. But to what end? What profit was there in producing killer waves and huge maelstroms capable of gulping down whole ships? And who was capable of wielding such immense and godlike power?

Austin saw movement out of the corner of his eye, cutting his meditation short. Another scull was pulling alongside his. Austin shipped his oars and coasted to a stop. The other rower did the same. They stared at each other. His newfound companion didn't fit the mold of the clean-cut, athletic types he often encountered on his morning rows. To begin with, long Rastafarian dreadlocks hung down from under the tan baseball cap. He wore sunglasses with blue lenses.

'Good morning,' Austin said.

The man removed his cap with the attached dreadlocks and took his sunglasses off. 'Damn, this thing is hot!' he said. He grinned at Austin. 'Been to any good kayak races lately?'

The sun gleamed off the bizarre tattoo on the sweaty scalp.

Austin leaned on his oars. 'Hello, Spider,' he said.

'You know who I am?'

Austin nodded. 'The Bob Marley disguise had me fooled for a second.'

Barrett shrugged. 'It was the best I could do on short notice. A guy was selling them at a souvenir booth near the boat rental place. It was either this or Elvis.'

'Good choice. I can't see you singing 'Hound Dog,' ' Austin said. 'Why the need to go incognito?'

Barrett pointed to a bandage that was wrapped around his head. 'Someone is trying to kill me.'

'Why?'

'Long story, Kurt.'

Austin decided to take a stab in the dark. 'Does this have anything to do with extra-low-level electromagnetic transmissions?'

It was obvious from the look of astonishment on Barrett's face that the comment had struck home. 'How'd you know about that?'

'That's about all I do know.'

Barrett squinted at the sparkle on the river. 'Pretty.'

'I think so, but you didn't come here for the scenery.'

'You're right. I came by because I need a friend.'

Austin swept his arm around. 'You're in friendly waters here. If it hadn't been for you and your boat, I would have been killer whale bait. Come back to my house and let's talk about it.'

'That's not a good idea,' Barrett said with a furtive glance over his shoulder. He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a black box about the size of a pack of cigarettes. 'This will tell us if there's any electronic surveillance in the area. Okay, it's clear right now, but I'd rather not take any chances. Mind if we row? I'm enjoying myself.'

'There's a place we can pull off not far from here,' Austin said. 'Follow me.'

They rowed another eighth of a mile and pulled the sculls up onto a low bank. A kind soul had placed a picnic bench in the shade of the trees for the benefit of passing boaters. Austin shared his water bottle with Barrett.

'Thanks,' he said after gulping down a couple of swallows. 'I'm way out of shape.'

'Not from what I saw. I was flying right along when you caught up with me.'

'I was on the rowing team at MIT. Rowed practically every good day on the Charles River. It's been a long time,' he said, smiling at the memory.

'What was your major at MIT?'

'Quantum physics, specializing in computer logic.'

'You wouldn't know it from the biker look.'

Barrett laughed. 'That's for show. I was always a computer geek. I grew up in California, where my parents were both university professors. I went to Caltech to study computer sciences, then on to MIT for my grad work. That's where I met Tris Margrave. We put our heads together and came up with the Bargrave software system. Made a zillion bucks on it. We were doing fine, enjoying ourselves, before Tris got involved with Lucifer.'

'Lucifer? As in the Devil?'

'Lucifer was an anarchist newspaper published in Kansas back in the eighteen hundreds. It's what they used to call 'matches' years ago. It's also the name of a small group of neo-anarchists Tris has been involved with. They want to topple what they call the 'Elites,' the unelected people who control most of the world's wealth and power.'

'Where do you fit in?'

'I'm part of Lucifer. That is, I was.'

Austin eyed Barrett's head tattoo. 'You don't strike me as a conventional person, Spider, but don't you and your partner control a considerable amount of the world's wealth?'

'Absolutely. That's why we're the ones to carry on the fight. Tris says men of wealth and education-those that had the most to lose-started the American Revolution. Guys like Hancock, Washington and Jefferson were well-off.'

'What's Margrave's role in Lucifer?'

'Tris refers to himself as Lucifer's driving force. Anarchists don't like the idea of following a leader. It's a loosely organized group of a hundred or so like-minded people affiliated with some of the more active neo-anarchist groups. A couple of dozen of the more violence-prone guys call themselves 'Lucifer's Legion.' I was more involved in the technical than the political side of the project.'

'What makes Margrave so driven?'

'Tris is brilliant and ruthless. He is guilty about the way his family made its fortune off of slavery and rum- running, but I think he is driven mainly by an obsession with power. He got me into the Lucifer scheme.'

'Which is?'

'We were going to mess up the Elites' empire, so they'd cave in to our wishes and relinquish some of their power.'

'That's a pretty tall order,' Austin said.

'Tell me about it. We gave them a taste of what would happen a couple of weeks ago in New York. We shut down the city for a time during a big economic conference, hoping to get them to deal, but it was like an elephant being stung by a bee.'

Austin raised an eyebrow. 'I heard about the blackout. You were responsible for that?'

Barrett nodded. 'It was just a sample to show them we could cause chaos. Our long-range plan is to cause massive communications and economic disruption around the world.'

'How were you going to do that?'

'By using a set of scientific principles to temporarily foul up their communications and transportation systems