Arctic Drift Part 10

"Probably ten years," the witness replied. A ripple of murmurs quickly spread across the gallery. The story was the same from each spokesperson. Advances in technology and product improvements were hitting the marketplace, but the progress was being made in baby steps, not leaps and bounds. There was no imminent breakthrough that would satisfy the President's mandate and save the country, and the world, from the physical and economic devastation of accelerated global warming.

The final speaker was a short bespectacled man who headed up the GWU Environmental Research and Technology Lab in suburban Maryland. Loren leaned forward and smiled as she recognized Lisa Lane taking a seat next to Dr. Horace Maxwell. After the lab director made a preliminary statement, Loren jumped in with the initial questioning.

"Dr. Maxwell, your lab is at the forefront of alternate fuels research. Can you tell us what technological advances we might expect from your work in the near term?"

Maxwell nodded before speaking in a henlike voice. "We have several outstanding research programs in solar energy, biofuels, and hydrogen synthesis. But in answer to your question, I'm afraid we have no imminent product development that will satisfy the President's tough new mandate."

Loren noticed Lisa bite her lip at Maxwell's last remark. The rest of the House panel took over and grilled Maxwell for another hour, but it was clear there was to be no noteworthy revelation. The President had gone out on a limb to challenge the brightest minds of industry and academia to solve the energy problem, but he was clearly striking out.

As the hearing was adjourned and the reporters rushed out of the chamber to file their stories, Loren stepped down and thanked Dr. Maxwell for his testimony, then greeted Lisa.

"Hi, roomie." She smiled, giving a hug to her old college roommate. "I thought you were still at Brookhaven National Laboratory in New York."

"No, I left a few months ago to join Dr. Maxwell's program. He had more funds for blue sky research." She grinned. "I've been meaning to call you since I moved back to Washington, but I've just been swamped."

"I can sympathize. With the President's speech, the work at your lab has suddenly become very important."

Lisa's face turned solemn, and she moved closer to Loren. "I really would like to talk to you about my own research," she said in a low voice.

"Would dinner tonight work? My husband is picking me up in half an hour. We'd love to have you join us."

Lisa thought for a moment. "I'd like that. Let me tell Dr. Maxwell that I'll make my own way home tonight. Your husband won't mind driving?"

Loren laughed. "Taking a pretty girl for a ride is one of his favorite pastimes."

LOREN AND LISA STOOD on the north steps of the Rayburn Building as a string of limos and Mercedes sedans rolled through the dignitary lane, picking up the wealthier members of Congress and their ever-hovering lobbyists. Lisa was distracted by the appearance of the House Majority Leader and almost missed seeing a rakish antique convertible come barreling to the curb, nearly creasing her thigh with its high-turned fender. She stared wide-eyed as a rugged-looking man with ebony hair and sparkling green eyes hopped out of the car and grabbed Loren in a tight embrace, then kissed her pa.s.sionately.

"Lisa," Loren said, pushing the man away with a tinge of embarra.s.sment, "this is my husband, Dirk Pitt."

Pitt saw the look of surprise in Lisa's eyes and smiled warmly as he shook her hand. "Don't worry," he laughed, "I only maul pretty women if they're members of Congress."

Lisa felt herself blush slightly. She saw an adventuresome glow in his eyes, tempered by a warm soul.

"I invited Lisa to join us for dinner," Loren explained.

"Glad for you to come. I just hope you don't mind a little wind," Pitt said, nodding toward the car.

"That's some set of wheels," Lisa stammered. "What is it?"

"A 1932 Auburn Speedster. I just finished rebuilding the brakes last night and thought it would be fun to take her out."

Lisa gazed at the sleek car, painted in dual shades of cream and blue. The open c.o.c.kpit offered cramped seating for two, and there was no backseat. Instead, the bodywork behind the driver's compartment flared to a triangular point at the rear b.u.mper, in the cla.s.sic boattail shape.

"I don't think there's room for all of us," she lamented.

"There is if somebody doesn't mind riding in back," Pitt replied. He walked over and pushed down on the flush topside surface of the boattail. A hideaway seat folded back, revealing a one-pa.s.senger compartment.

"Oh my, I've always wanted to ride in a rumble seat," Lisa said. Without hesitation, she climbed onto a foot bracket and hopped into the compartment.

"My grandfather used to tell me how he rode in the rumble seat of his father's Packard during the Depression," she explained.

"No better way to see the world," Pitt joked, winking at her before helping Loren into the front seat.

They loped through rush hour traffic along the Mall and across the George Mason Bridge before heading south into Virginia. As the city monuments grew smaller behind them, the traffic lightened and Pitt mashed down on the accelerator. With a smooth and powerful twelve-cylinder engine under the hood, the sleek Auburn quickly sprinted past the speed limit. As the car accelerated, Lisa grinned and waved like a little girl at the pa.s.sing traffic, enjoying the wind as it rustled through her hair. Up front, Loren placed a hand on Pitt's knee and smiled at her husband, who always seemed to find a touch of adventure wherever he went.

Pitt drove past Mount Vernon, then exited the main highway. At a small crossroad, he turned down a dirt road that meandered through the trees until ending at a small restaurant facing the Potomac River. Pitt parked the Auburn and turned off the motor as the heavy scent of Old Bay Seasoning filled the air.

"Best spiced crabs in the territory," Pitt promised.

The restaurant was an old riverside home converted to a cafe, plainly decorated but with a cozy atmosphere. They were seated at a table overlooking the Potomac as a crowd of locals began filtering in.

"Loren tells me you are a research chemist at GWU," Pitt said to Lisa, after ordering a round of beers and crab.

"Yes, I'm part of an environmental studies group looking at the global-warming problem," she replied.

"If you ever get bored, NUMA can put you to work on some cutting-edge undersea research," he offered with a smile. "We have a large team studying the effects of ocean warming and higher acidity levels. I just had a project review with a team studying carbon saturation in the oceans and possible means of boosting carbon absorption in deep water."

"With all the focus on the atmosphere, I'm glad to see someone is paying attention to the oceans as well. It sounds like there might be some parallels with my research. I'm working on a project related to airborne carbon reduction. I'd love to see the results of your team's work."

"It's just a preliminary report, but you might find it useful. I'll send a copy to you. Or better yet, I'll drop it off to you in the morning. I have an appearance to make on the Hill myself," he added, rolling his eyes at Loren.

"All executive agencies must justify their annual budgets," Loren replied. "Especially those run by renegade pirates."

She laughed and gave Pitt a hug, then turned to her friend. "Lisa, you seemed anxious after the hearing today to discuss your research work. Tell me more about it."

Lisa took a large swallow from her beer, then looked at Loren with trusting eyes.

"I haven't spoken of this to anyone besides my lab a.s.sistant, but I believe we have hit upon a profound discovery." She spoke in a quiet voice, as if afraid the neighboring diners might hear.

"Go on," Loren urged, drawn close by Lisa's demeanor.

"My research involves molecular manipulation of hydrocarbons. We've discovered an important catalyst that I believe will allow for artificial photosynthesis on a ma.s.s scale."

"Do you mean like in plants? Converting light into energy?"

"Yes, you remember your botany. But just to make sure ... Take that plant over there," she said, pointing to a large Boston fern dangling in a planter by the window. "It captures light energy from the sun, water from the soil, and carbon dioxide from the air to produce carbohydrates, the fuel source for it to grow. Its only waste product is oxygen, which allows the rest of us to survive. That's the basic cycle of photosynthesis."

"Yet the actual process is so complicated, scientists have been unable to duplicate it," Pitt said with growing interest.

Lisa sat quietly as the waitress appeared and unrolled a sheet of brown butcher paper on the table, then dumped a small mountain of steamed blue crabs in front of them. When they each began attacking a spiced crab with a wood mallet, she continued.

"You're correct in the general sense. Elements of photosynthesis have been successfully duplicated, but none with anywhere near the efficiency seen in nature. The complexity is very real. That's why the hundreds of scientists around the world working on artificial photosynthesis typically focus on a single component of the process."

"Yourself included?" Loren asked.