Free The Heat Islands: A Doc Ford Novel by Randy Wayne White Page B

aloud. "The reaction to the catalyst, though, can be positive or negative. Yin and yang, that's another basic principle. But it's different for man than the rest of nature. See why? Because we can consciously decide whether to be constructive or destructive. That's important."
    Resigned to listening. Ford took the cold bottle in his hand as Tomlinson said, "That option implies a higher force. Absolutely; a higher consciousness. That single option is the hot line to the force of good and the force of evil." He stared at Ford for a moment. "You can't doubt that they exist."
    Looking at the bottle. Ford said, "Well, actually—"
    "And I'll tell you why you can't doubt that good and evil exist."
    In a louder voice, Ford said, "I'm trying to concentrate on this slide."
    Tomlinson said. "It doesn't seem to apply at first, but it does: The reason you can't doubt is because a body in motion has a greater mass than a body at rest. That's a fact of physics that applies to all matter. But where docs the additional mass come from? No logic can explain it. Yet it's there. The sum of the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Like saying two plus two equals four, but two hundred plus two hundred equals five hundred. It's mathematical nonsense, yet it's a fundamental truth. The effects of this mysterious force can be measured, but the force itself can't be isolated. You know why?"
    Ford was pushing his chair back, standing, saying, "No, I don't—here, have a look at this."
    Tomlinson said, "Because it's the universal positive and the universal negative. It's an adhesive phenomenon; doesn't exist until a catalyst is introduced. We can access it positively or access it negatively ... but we need to be damn careful, because the destructive path is almost always the path of least resistance. Yeah, that's true—but why? Why the hell is that? ..."
    He let the thought trail off, his mind pondering, but he was already straddling the chair, confronting the microscope. After a moment, he shook his head and said, "What're we looking for here?" as if he just woke up.
    Ford said, "Dinoflagellate. I finally found the kind I wanted."
    "Hum.... How'd you adjust this damn thing? My eyes must be different from yours." Tomlinson was squinting into the binocular tubes. "Oh ... okay, now I see. Tiny little animals, man. Bunch of 'em."
    "There's one near the middle, a real slow mover. Kind of a yellowish green, moving with its pointed side first, and like it has ribbon wrapped all around it."
    "Sure, yeah—I got it. Weird, man. The water's alive."
    "That dinoflagellate is Gymnodinium breve, which causes toxic red tide. It doesn't suffocate fish. Breve dies after it blooms, sinks to the bottom, and becomes neurotoxic as it decomposes. That's the one that causes your lungs to bum. It accumulates in bivalves, like oysters, and makes them toxic to humans. Can cause massive fish kills, too."
    "So it's here, huh? We got red tide in the bay ... well, crap."
    "No, there's not enough of them. By my count, anyway. They're always in the water, but sometimes, for some unknown reason, they'll begin to multiply like crazy. Split asexually, billions of them, and that's when the trouble starts. That's what they call a bloom."
    Tomlinson considered that for a moment. "But something causes the bloom."
    "Yeah. Of course."
    "It's just that no one knows what."
    "Right."
    Tomlinson said. "The X factor, man. The catalyst that keys the destructive force. I rest my case."
    Ford said, "Oh, boy," moving to the window, listening. Then he said, "There's a boat coming in. Running across the flats without lights. Somebody who knows the water."
    "Probably a mullet fisherman."
    Beyond the window, the bay was swollen white, smooth, and Ford could see the scarecrow shapes of the channel markers and the charcoal sketch of mangrove islands. The boat was a small black void, moving fast, casting a wake like silver sparks in the moonlight.
    Ford said, "No. Not a mullet boat."
    "What is it,