The Gods of Laki: A Thriller
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A race to unveil the secret of Laki, a volcano on the southern shores of Iceland, pits our heroes—a sixteen-year-old Viking girl from the tenth century, a German geologist from World War II, and a former Secret Service agent protecting a female volcanologist—against evil forces with a plan to cause an eruption using explosives, altering the global climate through the release and forcing the price of oil to skyrocket.
Everyone and everything on Laki is in danger, including the possibility of ever unraveling the mysteries of the place, as it faces burial beneath a carpet of lava flows. Caught underground by the fracturing physical breakup of Laki, everyone finds themselves ensnared by Laki itself—an unseen, implacable foe that seems everything but a benign presence. Every move they make appears to be guided and controlled by an intelligence that permeates the netherworld.
Only gradually, through all the conflict between the various factions, does everyone begin to realize that it is Laki itself that has always been in charge.
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Runa was certain. There was bad blood behind them, a rent in the community that would never heal. This was how Vikings lived. Families split and moved apart, always searching for new lands. Now this small group would begin again, a new community. Three adult men, two young women, and Amma. Enough to start over. The first days in the cold land were hard. Food was scarce. Runa searched for shellfish along the coast, but fish or seal was what they needed. Until the boat was fixed, that would not be
the meeting almost surreal. He was no stranger to approaching potential investors. But he’d never been handed a check on his first meeting, without ever discussing specifics. He decided to see what might happen if he mentioned something else. Reza was standing, offering his hand. “If you’ll sign a few papers with our legal department, I’ll have my secretary cut the check. You can pick it up on your way out. I wish you luck in your endeavors.” Ryan took a deep breath. “You’ve been most
slim cigar, light it, inhale with pleasure, and stroll toward the end of the headland a hundred yards away. A smoke break. Some doctor, if that’s what he was. Well, if the guy wants to kill himself, Budelmann thought, I’m not going to argue with him. As soon as the man was a good distance away, the reporter slipped down the slope and entered the lab through the open door. From the size of that cigar, he figured he had at least twenty minutes. He whistled softly at the display of sophisticated
species, probably a million more yet to be discovered.” He gave the reporter a hard look. “I suppose you found this also, lying on the beach?” Budelmann ignored the question. “I don’t understand this. What would they be doing with a fungus? Do you use anything like it in your lab?” The scientist shook his head. “Fungi are major decomposers, more effective than bacteria, worms, or maggots. I suppose someone could be trying to use it to remove flesh from bone, but I’ve never heard of it being
incidents. We have decided to send a delegation of cardinals to Laki to pray on the matter . . . in close proximity to the problem.” Ricci said, “By sending cardinals, we show the seriousness with which we take the issue. This will be done in the open, with full knowledge of the world press. So that our congregants can see that their pontiff is concerned and willing to take on any false gods.” “A most worthy approach,” Wormer said, breathing a sigh of relief that he was evidently not going to