“Fantastic,” said Weiss.
“A parlor trick,” Ramsanjawi said.
“But the water is clear.”
“Only of PCBs. There are dozens of other toxic substances I did not choose to visually enhance.” Ramsanjawi sighed. “I am afraid this is a case of too little too late.”
“Spoken like a true optimist,” said Weiss.
“If I exude pessimism, it is only because I have been here too long.”
Weiss studied the Indian’s face for a moment. “Why don’t the three arms of Trikon cooperate, Dr. Ramsanjawi?” he asked.
“Personality clashes, racial clashes, silly notions of national pride. There is a good deal of competition in science, Mr. Weiss. Ask anyone who has received a Nobel Prize.” He hesitated a beat, then, “But if you want my honest opinion, the root cause is money.”
“No one’s mentioned that before,” Weiss said.
“Perhaps because it is not obvious. Or perhaps because it is so obvious that it requires no mention.”
“Pretend I don’t think it’s so obvious,” said Weiss. “How does money enter into it?”
“There are forces that want to prevent Trikon from developing these microbes,” said Ramsanjawi. “It is not because these forces wish the Earth to be suffocated in toxic wastes. They simply prefer that they be the ones who own the means of cleaning it up.”
“Forces? What forces? Who are you talking about?” Weiss demanded.
“I have no specific names to give you,” said Ramsanjawi. “But you can guess where they reside. The United States of America.”
“Dr. Ramsanjawi, that’s absurd. American scientists have spearheaded the ecological advances of the last decade.”
“I did not say American scientists. I meant American industry. Most of the pollutants in the oceans are by-products of American manufacturing processes developed in the middle part of the twentieth century. A patented microbe with the ability to neutralize these wastes would be worth millions of dollars to any scientist who can develop it. But it would be worth trillions to these industries because they would be able to continue using those old, cheap manufacturing processes, since they would have the means of cleaning up after them. They could even sell their manufacturing processes—and the cleanup systems—to the rest of the world.”
Weiss thought a moment, then said, “Kind of like putting catalytic converters on automobiles instead of giving them non-polluting motors.”
“Exactly!” Ramsanjawi beamed at the reporter. “You grasp the situation very quickly.”
Weiss thought the details were vague, but he liked the conspiratorial, antiestablishment flavor of Ramsanjawi’s theory. It was like the stories he had unearthed for his old TV tabloid, but on a far more sweeping scale.
“How are these forces preventing you from doing your work?” he asked.
“They are not,” said Ramsanjawi. “They are actually trying to promote our work so they can steal it and use it for their own purposes.”
“How do they steal it?”
“We are not certain of their methods, but we are certain of the thefts.”
“By who?” said Weiss.
“Different people.” Ramsanjawi made a small wave of his hand. “They change from rotation to rotation, posing as scientists or technicians. We think they are close to fitting all the pieces of this microbial puzzle together.”
“Is that so bad?”
“That depends on who you think should own the keys to toxic-waste cleanup—some giant corporation or a nonprofit consortium dedicated to the betterment of the world.”
Weiss considered the alternatives and decided that he did have a strong preference. He flashed on the image of Ramsanjawi and Bianco speaking warmly that morning. Could it be that the Indian, of all the others, was Bianco’s true soul mate, the genuine embodiment of what Bianco called the Trikon spirit?
“What makes you think these forces are close to developing the microbe?” he said.
“We think they have sent up a superspy,” said Ramsanjawi. Lowering his voice, “Hugh O’Donnell.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?” Weiss asked, grinning.
“What impelled O’Donnell to attack you today?”
“I tried to film his lab. He got, as we say, pissed.”
“When we say pissed, we mean drunk,” said Ramsanjawi. He smiled as if the incident proved his premise that O’Donnell was a spy.
“Wait a second,” said Weiss. “Everybody in the American lab hates O’Donnell.”