Alkaline

Chapter 1

The Coronavirus Pandemic changed the world as we knew it.

While the disease still lingered, it wasn't nearly as devastating as in the beginning. The speed of the virus's spread, its high contagiousness, and deadly cases scared people into their homes for almost two whole years. Everyone was afraid, because everyone knew someone who died of COVID. People went horribly—unable to speak, to stand, to breathe.

For me, more than frightening, it was fascinating. I mean that from a scientific point of view, of course. I'm no Wednesday Addams, fascinated by death itself. The outbreak of a new virus no one had heard of before was exactly why I wanted to become a biomedical researcher. I wanted to be the first one to know. I wanted to be the person who discovers it, and more importantly, who finds the cure.

That's exactly what I was training to do at AIR, the American Institute of Research. You probably never heard of it, and there's a reason for that—it's quite exclusive, and primarily, secret. Sometimes I felt like a superspy or someone from CSI, but the truth is, not many people care about research and what the government does to stay ahead of disease outbreaks. COVID sparked some curiosity, but the interest died down as the severity weakened.

There are research sites around the world, but I can say with certainty that I was sent to one of the most challenging—the station at Svalbard, a Norwegian island close to the North Pole. Remote as fuck, but that wasn't the issue. The problem was the temperature—a mind-numbing average of -10°C.

Not exactly what I'd call "comfortable."

The research station was located in Sveagruva, about a two-hour drive from the nearest town, Longyearbyen. Sure, there was a coal mine, but it was also home to our secret research station. Because Sveagruva wasn't exactly convenient to travel to, there were several buildings both for research and for living—tiny cabins set up like a makeshift village.

Each cabin had two bedrooms and a small bathroom. Every scientist had a roommate. It was a setup that reminded me too much of the college dorms I thought I'd left behind. There was no private living space, no kitchen of our own—just a communal kitchen and a shared entertainment area with everything you'd need: TVs, video games, even a pool and ping pong table. The station was practical, sure, but it was also a constant reminder that this was a workspace, and the lack of a kitchen made it feel impersonal. I guess they didn't want anyone feeling too comfortable.

The meals were prepared in the main kitchen, located next to the lab building. There were cooks and maintenance staff who made sure we were fed and the space was tidy, but meals were served only at strict times: breakfast from 5 to 8 am, lunch from 11 to 1 pm, and dinner from 6 to 9 pm. Outside of these hours, there were some snacks like dried fruits, coffee, granola bars, and sodas available, but trust me, dragging myself through the freezing air to grab some food was less than appealing.

Living at the research station was a dream come true for me, but I ever anticipated how restricted it would feel sometimes. I understand the need for certain rules if you want to live in a place like this peacefully, but whoever made the rules here went overboard, treating us more like children than professionals.

For instance, there was a curfew: 9 pm on weekdays, 11 pm on weekends. If you wanted to leave the village, you had to return before the curfew, or you'd be locked out until morning. The same rules applied to loud noises—music, TV, or even celebrations. Everyone also had a set work schedule—typically, 8 am to 5 pm with a short lunch break in between. It was regimented and disciplined to a fault.

The AIR crew was divided into four main groups: maintenance and food staff, scientists, research personnel, and the safety team. The maintenance folks kept the place clean and fed us; the scientists, like me, were the nerds stuck in the labs all day; the research group went out into the field to collect samples; and then there was the safety team.