This Green Hell

its remaining battery power, then shrugged and switched it on, going immediately to her results for the bacterial DNA match. She had found close approximations to a number of microbial forms with many genus similarities, but her strange bug was stubbornly eluding that final step towards identification.

The effect the microbe had on living tissue was extraordinary and frightening. She had never heard of that level of biocorrosion in anything other than…Corrosion…Her fingers leapt across the keyboard as she pursued the thought. She dived into old research papers and mining notes — and found it. Her eyes flew over the notes as she read furiously. Just last decade, there had been a serious pipe failure on the North Slope of Alaska. It transpired that microscopic organisms were eating through the toughened pipes, leading to leakage and finally total failure. Could it be…?

She skimmed down the pages looking for clues. She knew that the microorganisms she had been looking for, responsible for converting carbon to natural gas, were anaerobes — they did their job without oxygen or light, which was how they could function so deep below the earth. The biochemistry of their metabolisms was extraordinary and, by their very nature, they were carbon hungry. In simple terms, they ate carbons — that was how they instigated methanogenesis.

Aimee sat back for a second, before switching her screen images to the sample data from the infected men. Holy shit. She sat back again, placing both hands on her slick forehead. Of course, of course, of course. The bacteria ate carbon, all carbon. It was just doing what it existed to do — and had turned out to be very good at it. Carbon was the fourth-most abundant element in the universe and was present in all known life forms — including the human body, where it was the second-most abundant element after oxygen.

‘Oh God, no.’ Aimee pushed her hair back wearily. ‘It’s fucking eating us.’

Clavicula occultus — her ‘hidden key’ to the world’s energy problem — wasn’t just converting prehistoric carbon into oil as she’d assumed; it was also consuming the carbon it found in the human body and literally converting it to something else. Maybe even something that may become petroleum in a few hundred thousand years.

Aimee looked up at the ceiling and the golden halo of light thrown by the lantern. She felt heavy, drained of all energy. The depth of the oil and gas chamber meant the microbes had been imprisoned, locked away from the upper world of light and air. The mile-thick barrier had been the human race’s first line of defence. Perhaps, while we’ve been looking for them, they’ve just been patiently waiting for us.

She crushed her eyes shut for a moment, then said softly, ‘What have I let loose upon the world?’

She needed to speak to someone but the phone on her desk was useless. Shit! Anger welled up inside her, then dissipated to leave a small knot of fear and frustration deep in her belly. She thought of Alex Hunter — he had once been her antidote to fear or loneliness. She needed him right now — his advice, and his strength.

Once again, her last days with him came back to her. She was the one who’d decided it would be best for both of them if he gave up being in the Special Forces; settled down, became more normal. At first she’d asked him, then, towards the end, she had demanded it, and had taken his refusal as him choosing the HAWCs over her. She hadn’t even had the courage to say her final farewell in person. She could still remember every detail: the floral notepaper, the blue ink, the words: You’ve made your choice, and it’s a bad one. I think it’s best if I don’t see you again…Goodbye forever, Alex.

She looked back up to the halo of light and spoke softly. ‘I wish I’d never said that.’

* * *

‘I can’t reach Aimee.’

Jack Hammerson took the call from Alfred Beadman just after four in the morning. The normally urbane and relaxed chairman of GBR was in a state of high agitation. Hammerson rubbed his face with his free hand, feeling the stubble on his chin, and let the man speak on, allowing himself time to ease into full wakefulness.

‘Now there’s a quarantine order. The Paraguayan government has issued a no-go directive over that whole area of the jungle and they won’t say why. Something’s wrong, Jack, Aimee needs help. Is Captain Hunter down there yet?’ Beadman was breathing like a marathon runner.

‘Yes, Alfred, we know about the Q-order.’ Hammerson kept his voice calm, hoping to influence the older man. ‘Surprised us a bit, and did slow us up by a day or so, but we’ve made secondary plans and expect to be there by first light tomorrow. Now, when did she go offline?’

‘I don’t know exactly. She was supposed to call me about 10 pm. When I didn’t hear from her, I tried her phone, then her voice over internet link, then email, then even the site manager’s number — nothing’s getting through. Seems their satellite link is broken; and then when I called the government official in charge of mining and energy, he told me about the quarantine order. Would the quarantine order necessitate a blackout? Why? Jack, do you think you can use one of your satellites to check on her? I know you can zoom right in these days.’

Hammerson sighed. Why did people think he had some sort of satellite joystick in his top drawer that he could use to swing around a multi-billion-dollar piece of orbiting telemetry at a moment’s notice? Still, he couldn’t get angry with Beadman for trying all avenues. He knew that Aimee was like a daughter to him.

‘Alfred, satellites are almost useless for vision down there — too much green for us to see anything clearly. But I know where the HAWCs are, and I think you know what Alex is like — he’ll find her, no matter where she is. He and his team are less than a day from making contact. We all just have to be patient. I’ll call you as soon as I get any further information. Now get some sleep. Good night, Alfred.’

Hammerson heard the chairman splutter a bit more, but hung up anyway. There wasn’t anything further he could share with him. He looked at the clock: 4:14 am. He’d give it a few hours then get another field update. Wouldn’t hurt to have Alex and the team punch it up another level.

* * *

Adira Senesh slowly pulled the tiny receiver from her ear. Her hand shook slightly and her eyes burned as she considered the implications of the conversation she’d just overheard between her superior officer and the chairman of the company that Aimee Weir worked for.

She spoke softly in Hebrew, cursing Jack Hammerson for holding her back from accompanying Alex Hunter on the mission, and for refusing to keep her informed of his operational status.

As a Mossad Kidon agent, Adira had believed she was the best in the world — until she had worked with Captain Alex Hunter on a recent mission in the Middle East. He had saved her life several times in the space of a few days; he had fought with her and for her, and he had kept her safe. She had vowed to do the same for him — and she would do the same for him. She always repaid her debts.

Her mind worked furiously on ways to join the mission — but each option was discarded as being impractical or seen as treason. She cursed again; someone would pay dearly if Alex was killed. She gritted her teeth and lifted her arm; a small dagger appeared in her hand and she brought it down on the desk top with enough force to embed it several inches into the hard wood.

FOURTEEN

Alex had slept little during the night. His mind had refused to shut down, and he didn’t know whether the images he’d seen were the result of an overactive imagination, or whether he was receiving some sort of forewarning about Aimee’s current predicament. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to ignore the throbbing in his head.

He realised Garmadia had slowed and was closely watching Saqueo and Chaco. Both boys were moving ahead cautiously, peering left and right into the jungle.

‘Why are we slowing?’ Alex asked.

Garmadia motioned with his head. ‘These are animal trails we are following, Captain Hunter. There are no people here, no tracks or paths. We could be the first people to walk along here in many years, and we need to be cautious as it is the beginning of the wet season. This area is honeycombed with subsurface limestone caves. The more water that passes below us, the more chance there is of a new cave opening up. The caves can be very deep and can swallow a platoon whole.’