“What’s the point of talking if I can’t use what you say?” said Weiss.
“Do you know the meaning of lento?” asked Bianco.
“It’s a soup, right?”
Bianco slowly reared back his head and stared down the humped ridge of his Roman nose. Weiss felt the old man’s brown eyes penetrate to the base of his brain. He wiped the grin from his face.
“It means to take things slowly,” said Bianco. “In other words, I want you to have a comprehensive view of our work here before you file your report.”
“Agreed,” Weiss said easily. “Now how do these whale deaths connect with your work here?”
Bianco clasped his gnarled hands together and placed them on the table. Realizing that keeping them there required too much effort, he let them float before him like an inverted cradle.
“The main thrust of our project is to develop microbes genetically engineered to neutralize toxic wastes in our environment. The concept is called bioremediation.”
“I’ve heard of that. Scientists have been doing that for more than ten years, haven’t they?” Weiss asked.
“On a small scale, yes,” said Bianco. “Bacteria have been used to devour chlorine compounds that were polluting aquifers. But in those efforts, the scientists used the bacteria that already existed in the ground.”
“And Trikon’s trying to develop new kinds of bugs through genetic engineering, right?”
Bianco nodded slowly. “Ten years ago, your American EPA published a study that identified one hundred twenty-eight different toxic chemicals and compounds that were present in dangerous levels in the world’s oceans, lakes, and rivers. Ten years ago, Mr. Weiss. The situation has become much worse.”
Weiss started to speak, but Bianco silenced him with a sharp glance.
“Now I know what you are thinking,” said Bianco. “You are thinking that if there are one hundred twenty-eight chemicals, all we need do is pour the same number of microbes into the water and let them devour the chemicals to their hearts’ content.”
Weiss smiled wanly as if to say, Yes, that is exactly what I was thinking.
“The answer is not that simple,” said Bianco. “These toxic chemicals are not floating around in the water in discrete little bundles. Some ride the surface, others are buried in sludge, others blend into insidious solutions.”
“Are you getting to the whales?” said Weiss.
“Of course I am getting to the whales!” boomed Bianco.
Weiss flinched, completely surprised at the sudden power of Bianco’s voice. Even the dart players peered silently out of the ex/rec room.
“We have been working to develop one or two, maybe three, genetically engineered microbes with the capability of neutralizing all the major toxic wastes in the Earth’s waters. To give you an idea of the enormous complexity of the task, the most complicated microbe we have been able to develop neutralizes only seven.
“We knew we were working against the clock, but until the whale deaths occurred and were investigated, we did not realize how little time actually remains.”
“Do you really mean what you said at the meeting this afternoon?” Weiss asked. “We’ve only got ten years?”
“Perhaps less,” said Bianco. “The level of toxins in the ocean waters is killing off the plankton on which these whales subsist.”
“If that’s the case,” said Weiss, “why are so many marine biologists, big guns like Ted Adamski, saying that the cause of the whale deaths is a virus?”
“We have only recently satisfied ourselves that the deaths are from starvation and that the plankton supply has dipped below a level at which the normal whale population can sustain itself. We knew it would happen. But we did not anticipate it happening so quickly.”
“But Adamski still says otherwise,” said Weiss.
“Adamski privately believes the cause of death is starvation,” said Bianco. “He is maintaining his original public stance at our request.”
“Why?”
“To prevent wholesale panic,” said Bianco.
“Professor Bianco, I love the whales. I donate to Greenpeace every chance I get. Why the hell would the death of a few whales cause a panic?”
“You talked to Professor Karlis,” said Bianco.
“Karlis is a maverick,” said Weiss, too disturbed by the drift of the conversation to appreciate the irony of turning against one of his sources.