The Einstein Pursuit (17 page)

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Authors: Chris Kuzneski

BOOK: The Einstein Pursuit
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She launched into a long, rambling explanation in Swedish. Nearly a full minute passed before Dial found an opportunity to cut her off.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but I don’t speak Swedish.’

A scruffy man who had not yet spoken translated for him. ‘She says there’s a chance they created the animals themselves. They have large quantities of growth medium and Petri dishes, as well as microsurgical scalpels and the other implements needed for artificial embryonic division. Basically she’s saying they could split one embryo into two.’

Hanna nodded her agreement of the translation, yet she continued in Swedish.

This time it was Olsen who related her words to Dial. ‘She also says they had the right equipment – microscopic needles and what not – needed to pull the nucleus from its original cell and transplant it into another cell. A second cell without any genetic material of its own. They also had the equipment needed to incubate the newly created recombinant cell.’

Dial pondered the new information. ‘Is she talking about
cloning
?’

‘Yes,’ answered the scruffy scientist. ‘That is what she is saying. They had the means to clone their own animals.’

‘Just animals?’

‘No. Anything they liked. It’s all the same science. Dolly the sheep is no different from a human being. It’s the same procedure.’

‘But it’s an entirely different world of ethics,’ Dial challenged.

‘I suppose to some,’ the man argued.

‘But not to you?’ Eklund asked.

‘It is a luxury I can enjoy: not choosing sides. I am only an engineer. I simply build the machines. How they are used is not for me to decide.’

‘And your name?’ Eklund asked.

‘Magnus Hedman. Pleased to meet you both.’

Hedman was dressed like a lumberjack, as if he were about to go out and cut wood for the winter ahead. Even though it was summer, he wore long work pants and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled above his elbows. His hair was grey and unkempt. His face was ruddy and weathered. Dial’s first thought was that he looked like someone’s drunken uncle – the one who was always playing practical jokes. He certainly wasn’t what Dial thought of when contemplating an engineer at one of the world’s finest institutions.

‘Nice to meet you too,’ Dial said. ‘What’s your take on things?’

‘Whatever they were doing, it was cutting-edge,’ Hedman answered. ‘Some of the recovered samples were not organic, they were bionic. Are you familiar with nanotechnology?’

‘Let’s assume we’re not,’ Eklund said truthfully.

‘Nanotechnology concerns the order of things on the microscopic scale. We’re talking about machines and devices that are fully functional, yet no bigger than a human cell. In fact, there are those who believe we will someday be able to create machines that can be used to replace the very components of a cell. It would be like a heart transplant, only instead of something as big as a baseball, we’d be replacing a faulty nucleus a thousand times smaller than the head of a pin.’

‘And you found these devices in the lab?’ Dial asked.

Hedman laughed. ‘No, we’re not there yet. Perfecting machines that can operate on that small a scale is some time away. But what I found was still ahead of the curve.’

‘How so?’

‘Most nanotech in the market today relates to “passive” technology. For instance, microscopic particles that are added to sunscreens to make them more effective. The particles don’t change; they simply are what they are. That being said, the goal of nanotechnology is “active” technology, where a device could function as a sort of mini-mini-mini-
mini
-submarine that could be programmed to carry out a specific task, such as seeking out and destroying cancer cells before they propagate.’

‘And …’

‘I didn’t find that. What I found was somewhere in between. If I’m correct, it appears to be “reactionary” nanotech. It’s too soon to understand the trigger mechanism, but it seems they had created an inorganic microscopic delivery method.’

‘You’re saying it can’t seek out cancer, but it could react if it ever encountered it? Not so much a guided missile as a landmine.’

‘Theoretically, yes. That’s a very good analogy. But of course, there’s nothing that limits its target.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Programmed differently, it could just as easily be used to destroy healthy cells.’

Dial furrowed his brow. ‘It would attack healthy cells? Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t people mostly made up of healthy cells?’

‘Yes,’ Hedman said. ‘Theoretically, if you were to introduce a device like that into a human body, the result would be less like a landmine and more like a nuclear bomb.’

27

Dial took a moment to digest the new information. A pile of cremated animals that were in perfect health before their deaths. A bunch of dead scientists who had the ability to clone. Microscopic machines that could hurt or heal at the whim of their designer.

What the hell was going on at this lab?

With several crazy theories running through his mind, he decided to shift the focus to something different. If the property owner was as famous as Toulon had claimed, then someone in the room would have heard of him. ‘Tell me about Tomas Berglund.’

In a flash, the room grew still.

No movement. No sound. No breathing.

As if the air had been sucked from the lecture hall.

Dial and Eklund exchanged glances. With decades of experience between them, they instantly knew when a question resonated with an expert or witness.

This was one of those times.

Dial repeated the name. ‘Dr Tomas Berglund … Does the name ring a bell?’

Miles, the balding microbiologist, was the first to speak. ‘What would you like to know?’

‘Let’s start with the basics. Have you heard of him?’

‘Of course we’ve heard of him.’

‘And?’

‘Berglund is brilliant. A man ahead of his time.’

‘In what way?’

Miles sat up in his chair, as if slouching while talking about Berglund would be a mortal sin. ‘There are scientists in several fields who stumbled into greatness, men and women who made incredible breakthroughs without any forethought. Fortuitous accidents, if you will.’

‘You mean like penicillin,’ Eklund said.

He was referring to the unplanned discovery of
Penicillium notatum
, which was made when Dr Alexander Fleming returned to his laboratory after an extended absence and noticed that a culture of staphylococcus bacteria had been overrun by a strange mold. Upon closer examination, he noticed circular areas around the mold where the bacteria would not grow. He concluded that something in the mold was inhibiting, or possibly even destroying, the staphylococcus. Further studies showed that the mold was effective against bacteria while at the same time non-toxic to the host organism.

Eventually, the
Penicillium notatum
mold was purified and approved for medical use. The resulting drug – penicillin – had been used to treat bacterial infections since the mid 1940s.

It was the most popular antibiotic in the history of the world.

It was impossible to determine how many lives it had saved.

And it was discovered because someone forgot to put the lid on a Petri dish.

Miles approved of the reference. ‘That is the perfect example. Penicillin wasn’t a mistake, but it certainly wasn’t planned. Accidents like that happen all the time. You set out to prove one thing, and you end up making a discovery that is totally unrelated.’

‘And that’s what happened with Berglund?’

‘Not at all. In fact, that is the exact opposite of Berglund. He looks for the solutions before anyone has even identified the problems.’

‘I don’t follow,’ Eklund said.

Miles paused in thought. ‘Let’s pretend that we, as a collective group, manage to invent a revolutionary form of glass. Something that never smudges, just for the sake of argument. Well, Berglund is the type of guy who would go to his desk and pull out a notebook from a decade ago that would be filled with applicable uses for our new glass and theories about its limitations.’

Hedman chimed in with further explanation. ‘For instance, someone asks if the glass can be used in space. Well, we don’t know. We’ve never even
thought
about space. We were just trying to make a piece of glass that wouldn’t smudge. But Berglund – not only has he thought about space, he’s determined the issues with our new glass in sub-zero, non-atmospheric conditions, and he’s already established a treatment to correct these flaws.’

‘And he did that ten years before we even met,’ Miles stressed.

Dial nodded in understanding. ‘He’s a visionary.’

‘Yes,’ Hedman said, ‘and Picasso was just a painter.’

Dial smiled. It was a funny line. ‘What field does he work in?’

‘All of them. He’s dabbled in a variety of sciences,’ Hedman replied. ‘He has made unparalleled contributions in biology, chemistry, physics, you name it.’

Olsen rejoined the conversation. ‘Why do you want to know about Tomas?’

Hedman turned to face his host. ‘Isn’t it obvious? This was Berglund’s lab.’

Once again the air was sucked from the room.

Miles, who was clearly smitten with Berglund’s accomplishments, seemed particularly stung by the revelation. He stared at Dial and Eklund, hoping that one of them would refute Hedman’s claim, but neither did. In fact, after several awkward seconds, Eklund did the opposite.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘According to property records, Berglund owned the facility.’

Miles was visibly crushed. The others – even Hedman, who had put forth the theory in the first place – remained speechless. No one knew quite what to make of the news.

Hanna eventually broke the silence, abandoning her native Swedish and speaking in thickly accented English. ‘Is he dead?’

‘Sorry. We’re not at liberty to discuss it.’

The answer did not sit well with the matriarch of the group. She showed her anger by smacking her cane on the ground in front of her. The sound echoed through the hall. ‘Without us, where would you be? We have given you every explanation. We have walked you through the science. We have answered
all
of your questions. Surely you can answer one of ours.’

Eklund shook his head. ‘With all due respect, Dr Norling, you’re asking about an open, ongoing investigation. I can understand your interest, but unfortunately, I’m not in a position to provide any more details at this time.’

‘With all due respect, Special Agent Eklund, you’re not in a position to
keep
all the details at this time. You asked for our help, and we obliged. If Dr Berglund or
any
of our colleagues have been murdered in our city, we have a right to know. Otherwise, you may find yourself without the assistance of the Swedish scientific community.’

Hanna’s threat was clear. Olsen had gathered the best minds that the institute had to offer, and their continuing support was vital to the investigation. If the experts decided to withhold their participation, Eklund was certain that something would get overlooked.

He glanced at Dial, who subtly nodded his head.

Sometimes rules were meant to be broken.

Eklund cleared his throat. ‘In appreciation of your help and guidance, I can confirm that Dr Berglund has
not
been found at the scene.’ There was a collective sigh in the room. Miles’s face brightened with hope. ‘That does not mean he is out of danger. The building was large, and the damage was extensive. There is always a chance that we will find more bodies as we continue our examination. However, for the time being, we remain hopeful.’

‘Thank you,’ Hanna said in a warmer tone. ‘And what of the others?’

Eklund frowned. ‘I’m afraid they weren’t as fortunate.’

He opened his notebook and read two lists of names: the presumed dead and the confirmed dead. As Eklund spoke, Dial studied the reactions of the gathered scientists. What he saw was a mix of recognition, shock and horrified speculation.

Eventually Hedman said what the others were thinking. ‘Whatever they were doing, I assure you it was
way
bigger than you realize.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Dial asked.

‘Those names. Most of them should be running their own labs. To find them working side by side is remarkable. It would take something extraordinary to bring them all together.’

Olsen added more. ‘They represent the top percentages of their respective disciplines. Take everyone in this room and convince them all to put aside their own research and come together. Set them to work on a common goal. Your lab in Stockholm represents a similar endeavor.’

The implications of Olsen’s statement were not lost on the group. If someone had murdered such a collection of scientists – scientists who, like them, represented diverse areas of interest and, like them, were well known in their fields – what was to stop him from hunting them down next? Suddenly, their presence in the same room took on an ominous feel.

But Dial wasn’t concerned. ‘Tell me, could Berglund have brought them all together? Did he have that kind of pull?’

‘Almost certainly,’ Hedman replied. ‘Year after year he’s on the shortlist to win a Nobel Prize – the only question is the field in which he will be honored. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?’

Eklund grabbed a chair from against the wall and slid it to the front of the lecture hall. ‘Everyone get comfortable. It looks like we’re going to be here for a while.’

The group looked at him quizzically.

‘I want to know everything you can tell me about Dr Berglund. Every discovery he’s made. Every theory he’s put forth. Every rumor anyone’s ever heard about him. If someone wanted him dead, I want to know why. The same goes for any of the scientists on those lists. If you know anything that can help my case, I need to know now.’

Dial fought the urge to smile. He continued to be impressed by Eklund. It was the exact move he would have made had he been leading the investigation. He too wanted to hear more about Berglund and the other scientists.

He took a chair for himself and was about to carry it over to Eklund when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He put the chair down and glanced at the screen.

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