Akureyri Gateway Read online

  Akureyri Gateway

  Chris Berkness

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  July 21st, 2017

  A harsh buzzing noise rouses William Frieden from a sound sleep. He rolls over, glancing at the time on his nightstand clock as he reaches for his phone. “Hello?” he grunts when he answers. “It’s 4:00 a.m. This had better be good.”

  “How soon can you get to headquarters?” an unfamiliar voice demands.

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m calling on behalf of the Department of Defense. There’s a situation.”

  William sits bolt upright in bed. “Are we entering an emergency protocol?” Without waiting for a response, he fumbles around for the pants he dropped on the floor last night. William is the director of the Centers for Disease Control, based in Atlanta, Georgia. If he’s receiving a middle-of-the-night summons… the news isn’t good. He tugs on his button-down and blazer and runs his fingers through his hair. “Can you give me any details over the phone?”

  “Is this a secure line?”

  “It is.” William moves into his living room, collecting his briefcase, laptop, and keys. He sits on the couch to lace up his shoes.

  There’s a long pause, as if the person on the other end of the line is waiting to find out how much he’s allowed to say. Finally, he begins, “Two weeks ago, a massive iceberg broke off from Antarctica’s fourth largest ice shelf, Larsen C.”

  William nods, although the person on the phone obviously can’t see him. “I remember reading about that in the paper.”

  “What you didn’t read… what wasn’t made public… was that one week ago, NASA’s Aqua satellite identified an object buried deep in the crack. That object has been taken to the Amundsen-Scott South Pole research station for analysis.”

  “And you’re involving the CDC because…?”

  “There were sixteen DoD employees that directly handled the object… during the transportation process. All sixteen individuals… now have flu like symptoms.”

  William nods grimly. He grabs a soda from his fridge and races out the door. “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 1

  July 25th, 2017

  Erik flips through his notecards as he listens to the current speaker. He looks over the back of his chair at the audience. The conference room is crammed with circular tables, and the attendees lean back in embroidered navy-blue seats. Heads are bent, faces lit by phone screens, checking emails or texting colleagues. He looks to his assistant, Dzung, beside him.

  “How many people are registered for this conference?”

  Dzung takes off her glasses and types a few words into her laptop. “There are… two hundred and eighty-five people registered, but only two hundred and fifty-three are in attendance today.”

  Erik nods and looks down at his notecards again. He wipes away the sweat pooling on his upper lip.

  Dzung smiles at Erik. “Relax… You’ve presented in front of larger crowds than this.”

  Erik shakes his head. “Maybe, but these”—he tosses a thumb over his shoulder—“are some of the most accomplished neuroscientists in the world.”

  She puts her hand on his forearm and says, “So are you. You’ll be great. You know this material better than anyone.”

  He forces a smile and squints past the current speaker at the large wall clock behind the podium. It reads 3:10 p.m.

  “She needs to wrap it up,” he says. “I was supposed to start my presentation at three.”

  Dzung snorts. “It’s only ten minutes, Erik.”

  He brushes his sandy-blond hair off his forehead. “I’m sure people have flights to catch, and I have that four p.m. meeting with 132.”

  Dzung looks up from her laptop. “That’s true. That reminds me, I’ll have to leave as soon as you’re done.”

  Erik looks at his watch. “Okay.”

  Dzung stares at Erik and smiles. “I love your suit. Did Kristin pick it out?” She is doing her best to distract Erik, even if it is for just a few moments.

  “Yes, she insisted that I wear my navy-blue suit. Something to do with the color of my eyes,” he says with a shrug.

  Dzung chuckles. “You do have blue eyes.”

  “Whatever.”

  The sound of applause makes Erik’s eyes fly to the stage, where Professor Ugerbale passes the retreating speaker and clutches the podium. Heart racing, Erik wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and tries to find comfort in his notecards.

  Professor Ugerbale adjusts the microphone to accommodate his short frame. “Thank you, Professor Singh, for that insightful presentation. Before I introduce our last speaker, I have a few housekeeping items I need to go over.”

  Erik leans in and whispers in Dzung’s ear, “Seriously? We’re already fifteen minutes behind schedule.”

  Dzung rolls her eyes. “Stop.”

  Professor Ugerbale looks down at his notes. “Following our last speaker, there will be a reception in the McNamara Alumni Center on the East Bank of our campus. If you need directions, please see one of our hosts out in front. There’ll be snacks and drinks available… but sorry, no alcohol.” He chuckles, but no one else in the audience is laughing. “For those of you with flights to catch, shuttles will be running until seven p.m. They’ll be located out in front of this conference center… the Hubert H. Humphrey Conference Center.

  “I would also like to thank the staff here at the University of Minnesota for all their hard work in putting together this two-day neuroscience conference.” Everyone claps.

  Professor Ugerbale looks over at Erik and smiles. “I would now like to introduce our final speaker.”

  Erik’s stomach threatens to reacquaint him with the burrito he scarfed down for lunch.

  “Erik Jakobson is an associate professor here at the University of Minnesota. He is the senior manager of the Human Connectome Project and will be giving us an update on the progress the university is making with the HCP.”

  Professor Ugerbale turns in Erik’s direction and starts to clap along with the crowd. As Erik stands up, his muscular six-foot-four frame unfurls. With notecards and water bottle in tow, he walks up to the stage. He sets the bottle on the podium and wipes his palm on his jacket before shaking Professor Ugerbale’s extended hand.

  Erik takes his place in front of the microphone, knees shaking, and surveys the crowd. A friendly face catches his eye. His brother-in-law, Stephan, holds up a hand in greeting from a back table. Erik smiles back and adjusts the microphone. He sucks in a calming breath and taps the notecards lightly on the podium, straightening them.

  “Do you ever wonder what it is that makes you… you?” he asks, pausing to let the opening line sink in. “Wh
y are some people susceptible to substance abuse while others are not? We have found that individuals with stronger neural pathway connections among certain brain regions scored higher in tests of memory and were more highly educated, while those with weaker connections were less educated and more prone to anger and violence. As you already know, the human brain is the most complex structure in the universe. It has over ninety billion neurons interconnected with one hundred trillion synapses that are responsible for the amazing diversity and talents among the billions of people on Earth.”

  Erik rubs his forehead and takes a sip of water before continuing.

  “The Human Connectome Project is an ambitious effort to map the neural pathways that underlie human brain function. It aims to provide an unparalleled compilation of neural data, that will give us an opportunity to achieve never-before-realized conclusions about the living human brain. By using diffusion spectrum imaging, which tracks the movement of water through nerve fibers, we can trace groups of neurons as they cross from one region of the brain to another. With our advances in imaging and data visualization, we can now study the human brain as an entire organ, and at a level of detail not previously imagined possible in a living person. This will allow us to map the neural pathways of the brain and explore how a person’s brain connectivity relates to his or her mental abilities, like memory, self-control, and decision-making. We will actually be able to study a person’s thoughts and feelings.”

  Clicking to his next presentation slide, Erik begins to detail the parameters of the Human Connectome Project: how many scientists are working on it, how many subjects have been scanned thus far, and how many people he plans to study in order to draw viable conclusions. He outlines his proposed time frame for the project. He shares a few anonymous case studies, highlighting trends in the data that he hopes will continue as more subjects are studied. The longer he talks, the more comfortable he feels. This is his specialty and his passion. Despite his previous nerves, Erik is eager to share his thoughts with his colleagues.

  He finishes his speech by telling the audience, “This research will help us gain a better understanding of certain neurological disorders, like Alzheimer’s, autism, Parkinson’s, epilepsy, and even schizophrenia, in turn yielding new and better ways to detect, treat, and ultimately prevent these brain disorders.”

  Erik pauses again, letting the last line of his speech settle, and then finishes, “Thank you for attending our conference. I hope you’ve found it to be as illuminating as I have.” He heads for the short stage steps as light applause fills the room.

  When he reaches his table, Dzung is gone, already headed for the laboratory on the East Bank of the campus. As Erik bends to retrieve his backpack, he feels a pat on his back. He looks up and sees Professor Ugerbale smiling at him. His partially bald scalp reflects the lights from the ceiling. “That was outstanding, Erik. Thanks for agreeing to present.”

  Erik smiles and says, “I should be thanking you. This is great exposure.”

  The professor just nods. “Are you going to the reception?”

  Erik shakes his head and looks at his watch. “No. I’m meeting with 132 in fifteen.”

  Professor Ugerbale’s eyebrows rise. “Really? You’ll have to let me know how that goes.”

  “I will.”

  As Professor Ugerbale walks away, Erik spies Stephan weaving through tables toward him. The two men tower above everyone in the room as they embrace, both of them well over six feet. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

  Stephan scratches his perfectly trimmed red beard, which would begin to curl just like his fiery hair if he let it get any longer. “What, and miss the opportunity to learn more about the HCP?”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday afternoon than at a neuroscience conference.”

  Stephan snorts. “Are you going to the reception?”

  “No, I have an appointment at four. I need to head over to the lab.”

  “Can I give you a ride?” asks Stephan.

  “Thanks, that would be great. The conference ran late so I don’t have time to walk across the bridge.”

  Stephan gestures to the door. “Grab your bag. Let’s go.”

  Stephan’s sedan isn’t much to look at, but it’s pristine inside, and Erik settles in for the five-minute trip over the Mississippi River to his laboratory on the East Bank campus. When Stephan lets him out in front of the building, he bends down to look through the passenger window. “Thanks for the ride. See you at the house for dinner.”

  Erik cuts left on the main floor, taking a detour on the way to his own lab. Inside, his wife, Kristin, sits at her laptop, her blonde hair pulled back in a flat, black clip. Her hazel eyes light up as she raises her head and sees him.

  “How did your speech go?” she asks as he wraps an arm around her. She lifts her chin to meet his kiss.

  “Everyone clapped at the end, so I guess it went well,” he said with a shrug.

  She smiles and says, “Maybe… they were clapping because they were happy it was finally over.”

  His brows pull together. “Ouch!” He chuckles and squeezes her slender frame.

  She kisses him softly. “I’m sure you were brilliant. Was my brother in the audience?”

  Erik nods. “I didn’t expect to see him there.”

  “He wanted to give you moral support, since I was stuck here.”

  “He’s amazing. It’s so hard to believe that your brother… my best friend… is the one who introduced me to my soulmate.” Erik leans down for another kiss. “I will never forget that date: August second, 2004.”

  Kristin looks up at him with a tear shining in her eye. “You know I feel the same way about you. I love you more than you could possibly know.”

  Erik hugs her, checking his watch behind her back. “Oh, shit… I have to get going. My appointment with 132 is in two minutes.”

  Erik starts to jog toward the exit, smiling when Kristin yells out, “Good luck!”

  “Thanks! See you in an hour.”

  Kristin is on Erik’s mind as he hurries down the halls and up a flight of stairs, his shoes squeaking on the glossy tile floor. He drifts away to that beautiful sunny day in Reykjavik, Iceland, when he and Kristin exchanged their vows, Stephan as best man at Erik’s side.

  But the mountainous landscape of lush greens dotted with frothy white waterfalls once again gives way to sterile beige walls and blindingly white floors as Erik reaches his lab, where Dzung is typing away on her laptop. She looks up and says, “He’s waiting for you in your office, Erik.”

  “Thanks, Dzung.”

  “By the way, you were great today.”

  Erik shoots her a grin. “Thanks.”

  He opens the flimsy office door to find Timothy Claiborne, listed as volunteer 132 in his records, sitting in a straight-backed chair in front of the aluminum desk. Timothy’s dark hair shows no signs of gray, though he’s in his early thirties.

  Erik extends his hand to shake, then takes his own seat behind his desk.

  “How was your flight?”

  Timothy shrugs. “Uneventful.”

  “I’m glad. I know it’s a hassle to travel here. I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today.”

  Timothy smiles back at Erik, putting some extra life into his dark brown eyes. “I’m willing to help in any way I can.”

  “Great. Let’s get started.” He puts his hands on his desk and looks down at his notes. “You were diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when you were twenty-four, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were taking Avonex to help with the symptoms, and this of course lowered your immune system, which led to your diagnosis of stage four non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you chose not to pursue chemotherapy.”

  “There was no point.” For a moment, Timothy looks haunted. “I was simply too ill.”

  Erik cocks his head and rubs his chi
seled, clean-shaven chin. “And yet now you’re not only free of cancer, but you also don’t have any symptoms of MS.” He turns a page in his notepad. “Looking at an MRI taken two years ago, we see over fifty brain lesions. Today, you have none.” He looks up at Timothy. “How is this possible?”

  Timothy sits up straight and says, “I wish I knew...” He holds his hands out, palms up. “I didn’t take any medication or have any procedures done. The diseases simply went away on its own.”

  Erik takes a deep breath and exhales. Even with the evidence right in front of his eyes, he’s having trouble believing in such a miraculous recovery. “There is something else that’s strange,” he goes on. “Your blood type changed in the last year, but your charts don’t show a bone marrow transplant.”

  Timothy shrugs. “I can’t explain that either.”

  Erik rubs his forehead. “Did anything change in your life last year? Even something small could help us pinpoint what happened. Were you injured at any point? Did you change your diet?”

  As Erik waits for Timothy to answer, he taps his fingers against his thigh in anticipation. But after several seconds of silence, he realizes he’s lost the man. Timothy is staring at the picture on Erik’s desk—a prized shot of him and Kristin in Iceland.

  Timothy shakes his head and points at the picture. “Sorry… I know that building. It’s the Harpa, right?”

  Erik’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yes… You’ve been to Reykjavik?”

  “Yes. Once.” Timothy studies Erik for a moment before continuing. “When was that picture taken?”