Rendezvous in Icefjord
Icefjord Harbor, Iceland
A small patrol boat emerged from a shroud of mist as it approached the port of Vatnajökull, Iceland. A USCG Sentinel-class Fast Response Cutter, it flew an Iceland flag port side, as a courtesy to the host nation; starboard, the craft flew an American flag, with the NATO ensign below it. Despite these protocols, it was under NATO command, and its’ crew was predominantly Estonian.
A Bell 407 search-and-rescue helicopter was parked in the center of the craft, flanked by a rigid inflatable and a cache of diving gear. The sea was quite rough, and the vessel danced like a moth in firelight.
A woman with long red hair stood on deck between a cluster of sailors and the 25 mm cannon. She wore a white civilian ski parka with fake fur around the edges of the hood. She was taller than most of the sailors, each of whom wore coveralls with the blue and white NATO emblem over the left breast pocket. None of this attire sufficed to fend off intermittent waves of clumped snowflakes and sleet, but no one seemed bother by it. The crew – men and women – seemed to be uplifted by her serene presence.
The civilian was Joanna Smythe, Ph.D., an expert in the fields of anthropological epidemiology and forensic microbiology. She had written books on epidemics over past millennia, even ones among ancient, extinct animal species. She also rocked the academic world with a definitive account of past centuries biological warfare which exploded many preconceptions which had dominated historical accounts. Now she was on academic leave from Yale, working on contract with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, which was now keenly interested in her area of expertise.
She represented the United States in the Joint International Task Force on Bio-Agent 7. “BA7” was identified as a bio weapon responsible for an outbreak of disease in and around Donetsk, Ukraine. It obtained its’ name because, unlike most microbes which occur in nature, it expresses seven distinct surface proteins which bind as many different receptors on human host cells. Senior NATO officials started suspecting a bio-agent when soldiers returning from the front showed symptoms similar to anthrax. Captured Russian troops said that there were indeed bio-weapons in use, but it was hard to tell if this was a fabrication. A senior official at NATO headquarters dismissed them as “attention whores” and social media descended into a maelstrom of contention over the matter.
Scientists at the US and European Centers for Disease Control analyzed samples taken from members of the Ukrainian National Guard who had become ill. They both discovered a novel virus and, despite quarrels over who was to take credit for the breakthrough, they agreed on the science. Deemed the new “uber-virus”, BA-17 manifested surprising complexity and had what were regarded as super powers compared to all previously known viral species.
There was wild speculation on the internet that the Russians had achieved a biological “Sputnik. In some quarters there was panic buying of anything rumored to be a cure: garlic, Tamiflu, ivermectin, astragulus, licorice extract…it’s a long list. But none of them worked.
Masks, especially N95s, were sold out everywhere except for the black market, where they commanded obscenely high prices. Protesters took to the streets alleging every conceivable conspiracy theory and police over-reaction escalated tensions. These of course led to more over-reaction on the part of the governments and thus the vicious cycle continued to escalate and de-escalate on what seemed to be an almost daily cycle.
The European CDC was the repository for archaeological microbiology specimens and thus they were the first to discover a similarity between the Donbass isolates and a sample in their microbe library – thawed remnants from the excavations under the retreating ice. There were long sections of viral RNA which matched in the two specimen sets, and the Artificial Intelligence analysis confirmed scientists’ guy feeling that these matches were extraordinary and indicated a shared lineage. Moreover, glycoproteins in the outer capsule of the suspected bio-weapon and the samples from the Iceland permafrost were virtually identical. Identical, and surprisingly diverse. Virologists had never seen a large virus with so many facets, and this gave the organism multiple means by which to attach to human cells.
This led to another nickname for BA-7: Hydra. In Greek mythology, Hercules confronted the monster with many heads, each of which grew back when cut off. He only triumphed when he shot flaming arrows to cauterize the decapitation wounds. In the laboratories of the CDC, the virus exhibited uncanny behavior. Any time an antibody was developed that would bind a viral epitope, a new, slightly different version would pop up on the mutating virus. The virus was like the mythic Hydra in more ways than one, and the name stuck.
Ground zero for this find was the site of archaeological ruins just outside of Icefjord, Iceland.
West was glad to be there. Global climate change had made southerly latitudes exceedingly hot, and Iceland was a welcome respite. Tourists flocked there to escape the blistering heat which enveloped lower latitudes. Once a jumble of icebergs, Icefjord harbor had yielded to the onslaught of warming temperatures. The icebergs were gone and the water in the harbor consisted of a slushy mixture of ice chunks and cold water.
At one time the town was famous for it’s Vatna Glacier, but the ice had receded dramatically. The labyrinth of blue and white ice had been transformed into an alpine meadow.
A second boat approached the harbor — a German Braunschweig-class corvette. It displayed the flag of the German Democratic Republic but it too bore the blue and white flag of NATO. Identifying markers indicated it was part of Standing Maritime Group 4, a special unit formed in the late 2020’s. NATO form the group when it expanded to incorporate Norway and Sweden and Russian naval activity in the Baltic Sea menaced Scandinavia.
As the crew milled about to prepare for docking, West pulled out her phone. Previously, she had not been able to connect, but now she got a ring and a voice came over the line.
“Ali! We’re almost there!”
“Roxanne! Great! Can’t wait to see you!”
“I brought you a small present.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that? What is it”
“I have the full nucleotide sequence for seventeen.”
“Very nice.”
“Wait. There’s more. Remember that cute paperweight you gave me?”
“The one that looked like a cytomegalovirus?”
“Yes! I had one made for you in Atlanta.”
“I love it. Cytomegalovirus?”
“No. Even better. It’s Seventeen.
“No! You’re kidding me, right?”
“No. I know a glass blower who worked with Dale Chihuly. I commissioned him.
“That thing probably belongs in a museum Johanna. You didn’t have to do that.”
“He owed me a favor. I got him a scrip from France when his kid was sick. You remember the shortages…he thinks I walk on water now.”
“How could I forget.”
There had been riots throughout the developed nations north of the equator during an Ebola scare. Experimental drugs from Europe eventually panned out and eradicated the virus, but for many arduous months people were literally killing to get their hands on the medication
“Roxanne your signal is breaking up.”
“I think it’s interference from that other boat that’s in harbor. I will see you when we dock.”
“Yes. I will see you soon Roxanne.”
She tucked the phone back into her pocket. It was late afternoon and the sun was setting behind the ridge that dominated the west end of the harbor. A frigid breeze started to become a sustained wind.
Even though she was wearing muck-lucks and wool socks, her feet were starting to get numb from the cold. She stomped them on the deck to get the blood moving. The thin tights she wore were leaving her thighs exposed to the cold Arctic breeze; she thought it advisable to don a pair of warm-ups before the sun got any lower.
She turned to head for her cabin and noticed the captain sizing her up. It was pretty clear that he had grown attached to her companionship after the cruise from Brussels. She didn’t want to deal with an awkward good bye so she shot him a glance and said “Yikes! Didn’t think it would be this cold.” She ducked down the hatch before he had a chance to say a word.
The skipper had indeed been tempted but did not allow himself to become attached to his passenger; he understood that the relationship was necessarily transitory and strictly professional. A widower at fifty, he certainly would not have minded if the relationship with the legendary Joanna Smythe PhD went beyond business. But he knew that he was, at heart, a simple man, a sailor, the son of a fisherman, and that no one would ever replace the plain-spoken down-to-earth nature of his departed wife.
He turned with a face made stony by the habit of suppressing emotion, and faced the only mistress he knew — the sea. She whipped his face with cold, salty water, and he knew he that despite a bittersweet loneliness, he would be fine.
Next — Chapter Three: The Death Needle
This is Chapter Two of Anthropocene Memoir: Ghost of the Forgotten Snows, an installment novel by Geof Bard.
Read Chapter One here at Neocities; earlier versions of chapters 1-3 first published on Medium.