"No natural enemies?" Trout said.

"Its defense mechanisms are amazingly complex. The weed contains toxins that deter herbivores. It does not die back in winter."

"Sounds like a real monster," Trout said.

"Oh it is. It is. A tiny fragment can start a new colony. Its only weakness is that it can't reproduce sexually, like its wild relatives. But think what might happen if it were to disperse eggs over long distances." /

"Not a pleasant thought," Gamay said. "It could become unstoppable."

Osborne turned to Paul. "As an ocean geologist, you're familiar with the area of the Lost City?"

Trout was glad to get out of the realm of biology and into his area of expertise. "It's an area of hydrothermal vents along the Atlantic Massif. The material spewing from the sea bottom has built up tall mineral towers that resemble skyscrapers, hence the name. I've read the research on it. Fascinating stuff. I'd like to get out there sometime."

"You may soon get your chance," Osborne said.

Paul and Gamay exchanged puzzled glances.

Osborne chuckled, noting their befuddled expressions. "Perhaps you'd better come with me," he said. They left the office and after several twists and turns found themselves in a small laboratory. Osborne went over to a padlocked metal storage cabinet. He unlocked the door with a key hung from his belt and extracted a cylindrical glass phial about twelve inches tall and six inches in diameter. The top was sealed tight. He placed the phial on the table under a lab light. The container seemed to be filled from top to bottom with a thick grayish-green substance.

Gamay leaned forward to examine the contents and said, "What is this gunk?"

"Before I answer your question, let me give you a little background. A few months ago, MBL participated in a joint expedition to the Lost City with the Woods Hole Oceanographic. The area is rife with unusual microbes and the substances they produce."

"The combinations of heat and chemicals have been compared to the conditions that prevailed when life began on earth," Gamay said.

Osborne nodded. "On that expedition, the submersible Alvin brought up samples of seaweed. This is a dead sample of what you're looking at."

"The stem and leaf looks vaguely like Caulerpa, but different somehow," Gamay said.

"Very good. The genus has more than seventy Caulerpa species, including those you find in pet shops. Invasive behavior had been documented in five of those, although few of the species are well studied. This is a totally unknown species. I've named it Caulerpa Gorgonosa." "Gorgonweed. I like it."

"You won't like it after you've become as well acquainted with this infernal freak as I have. Scientifically speaking, we're looking at a mutant strain of Caulerpa. Unlike its cousins, though, this species can reproduce sexually."

"If that's true, this Gorgonweed can spread its eggs over long distances. That could be a serious matter."

"It already is. Gorgonweed has intermingled with taxi folia and is now displacing that weed. It has shown up in the Azores, and we're seeing samples along the coast of Spain. Its growth rate is nothing short of phenomenal. There has been a burst of growth that is extraordinary. Great patches of weed are floating in the Atlantic. Soon they will join in a single mass."

Paul let out a low whistle. "It could take over the entire ocean at that rate."

"That's not the worst of it. Taxifolia creates a smothering carpet of alga. Like the Medusa whose gaze could turn men into stone, Gorgonweed becomes a thick, hard biomass. Nothing can exist where it is present." Gamay gazed at the phial with the horror brought on by her knowledge of the world's oceans. "You're basically talking about the world's oceans solidifying."

"I can't even comprehend a worst-case scenario, but I do know this. Within a short time, Gorgonweed could spread along temperate coasts and cause irreparable ecological damage," Osborne said, his voice an uncharacteristic whisper. "It would affect the weather, possibly causing famine. It could bring ocean commerce to a stop. Nations that depend on ocean protein could go hungry. There would be political disruptions around the world as the haves and the have-nots fight over food."

"Who else knows about this?" Paul said.

"Ships have reported the weed as a nuisance, but outside of this room only a few trusted colleagues in this and other countries are aware of the gravity of the situation."

"Shouldn't people know about the threat so they can get together to fight it?" Gamay said.

"Absolutely. But I didn't want to sow seeds of panic until my research was complete. I was in the process of preparing a report which I will submit next week to pertinent organizations such as NUMA and the UN."

"Is there any chance you could do it sooner?" Gamay said.

"Oh yes, but here's the problem. When the issue is biological control, there is often a tug-of-war between eradication interests and scientific study. The eradicators understandably want to attack the problem quickly with every weapon at their command. If this news gets out, research will be quarantined for fear their work will spread the weed." He glanced at the phial. "This creature is not some sort of ocean borne crabgrass. I'm convinced we can successfully deal with it once we have more weapons at our disposal. Unless we know exactly what we're dealing with, no eradication method will work."

"How can NUMA help?" Gamay said.

"Another Lost City expedition is under way. The Oceanographic research vessel Atlantis will be on site this week with the Alvin. They will attempt to explore the area of the sea where the weed appears to have mutated. Once we determine the conditions that led to this aberration, we can work to defeat it. I've been trying to figure out how I can finish my work here and go on the expedition. When I heard you two were in town, I took it as a sign from the gods. You bring the perfect blend of expertise. Would you consider joining the expedition in my stead? It would only be a few days."

"Of course. We'd have to get permission from our superiors at NUMA, but that will present no problem."

"I can trust you to be discreet. Once we have samples in hand, I will release my report simultaneously with my colleagues worldwide."

"Where is the Atlantis now?" Paul said.

"Returning from an unrelated mission. It is stopping in the Azores tomorrow to refuel. You can join the ship there."

"It's doable," Paul said. "We can be back in Washington tonight and on our way in the morning." He glanced at the phial. "We're going to have a real problem if that thing in there gets out of the bottle."

Gamay had been staring at the greenish blob. "The genie is already out of the bottle, I'm afraid. We're going to have to figure out how to get it back in."

GORGON WEED?" Austin said. "That's a new one. Is this stuff as bad as your friend says it is?"

"It could be," Gamay said. "Dr. Osborne is quite concerned. I respect his judgment."

"What do you think?"

"It's cause for worry, but I can't say definitively until we have more evidence from the Lost City."

Gamay had called Austin aboard the Mummichug. She apologized for getting him out of bed, but said she and Paul were en route to the Lost City and wanted to make sure that he knew what they were up to.

"Thanks for filling me in. We'd better alert Dirk and Rudi," he said, referring to Dirk Pitt, who had succeeded Admiral Sandecker as head of NUMA, and Rudi Gunn, who was in charge of the agency's day-to-day operations.