Night Shift

by Robin Triggs

  “I am here to map the continent.” Her words were stiff, formal. “To map it below the surface. Every month I go out – with Max or with Mikhail or Dmitri – and drill into the ice and pack the hole with an explosive charge. I interpret the shock waves and so learn how the continent is made up. Find the resources for exploitation.”

  “So?”

  “So I helped to choose the site for this base. Do you think we are placed here by accident? No. I met my brief. Near accessible resources, within crawler range – and geologically stable.”

  “You’re saying it wasn’t – couldn’t have been – an earthquake?”

  Her eyes left mine for the first time – the merest flicker of uncertainty. “I am…I am not saying that. Even the most stable places have tremors…occasionally. The ice shifts and cracks in ways we can’t predict.”

  I looked at her carefully. Pride was etched in every pore of her face, a defensiveness ready to snap into aggression. “But you don’t think that’s likely?”

  She stared back at me and said nothing.

  “Could the mining operations have caused it? Or the half-tracks?”

  Weng shook her head.

  “Then what?”

  “I’ve gone over the data many times.”

  “And?”

  “I have mapped the epicenter of the…incident very carefully. Either it was that freak, unpredictable earth tremor, or…”

  “Or what, Weng?”

  “Or the avalanche was started deliberately.”

  Chapter Five

  If the avalanche was started deliberately…

  I seized the possibility so readily.

  So we had a choice of either a freak event or sabotage. I could tell which option Weng preferred, but I wasn’t sure.

  I left her to her work. My first thought was that I should go back to talk with de Villiers, but he’d gone up to the minehead. I had no way to get in touch with him, and it didn’t seem worth making the trek myself – not yet, at least. I wanted to do some thinking first.

  I paced the corridors, vaguely heading towards my rooms. It seemed wrong to be hiding myself away at a time like this, but this had just become a criminal investigation and I needed to get things right. Needed to start from first principles and think my way through.

  So much for six months of boredom.

  And there was another reason to avoid the rest of the crew. If the avalanche had been started deliberately, then one of my colleagues was, must have been, responsible. I didn’t want to cause undue suspicion.

  I felt a quaver of excitement, of uncertainty, run through me. This was my chance to prove to de Villiers, to all my doubters – to myself – that I wasn’t just a ‘Company shill’ but that I was capable, that the Psych had got the right man.

  My chance to win. My chance to lose.

  Weng wanted it to be sabotage to salve her ego. I wanted it for exactly the same reason.

  I sat at the compscreen in my office; as long as I didn’t try to access higher levels, I could use it as a simple workstation. I stared blankly at the screen for a second, before glancing at my touchstones: my puzzle box, my book. Then I began to pour my memory onto the page. First the facts, the things I knew for sure, before I allowed myself to speculate and to set down some of the many questions I’d have to answer.

  The destruction of the comms building should not affect operations but effectively isolates us for the next six months. Was that the aim? Or was there anything else kept in there that might have been the real reason for the avalanche?

  I thought of Max and her smoking. I wondered what other vices might be shared amongst the crew.

  Can we be sure that there isn’t a fourteenth person on the base, or that there isn’t a rival station nearby? If – if – this was sabotage, eliminate any possibility that it was caused by an outsider. If we can do that, then there are thirteen suspects. I paused before changing the number to twelve: I’d been including myself. The explosion occurred when all should have been asleep. It’s unlikely that anyone has a solid alibi.

  Where did the explosives come from?

  What do the surveillance cameras show?

  I stared at the screen for a long time.

  Weng thought I might be here because of her. She has the expertise and the determination to have done this. She hates de Villiers, and she did not seem overly concerned by events. She must be considered a suspect.

  But it was Weng who suggested it was caused deliberately. If she’d been responsible, wouldn’t she have told me there was a geological explanation?

  And what did she have to gain? What was the motive?

  Who can I trust?

  Who could I trust?

  * * *

  It was time to talk with de Villiers again. He had to be told about the possibility of sabotage. I sent him a priority message: Have important information. Meet up ASAP. As soon as he returned he’d get that and – hopefully – come and find me.

  I made myself a cup of strong coffee and returned to my desk. I closed my log and opened up the base security schematic. So this was available to me too; de Villiers must only have blocked off my access to personal information.

  The security schematic was restricted access. Only de Villiers and I had a right to go in there, although Fischer could also gain entry in an emergency. We’d had similar in the blocks, but the old system was much more primitive – even if it did have to cover a much larger area.

  I spent about twenty minutes getting to grips with its intricacies before I settled on what I was after: the base’s surveillance records. I’d finished my coffee; it combined with the caffeine tab I’d taken earlier, and I felt pumped, alive. This, I thought, should be easy. All public rooms and corridors in the barracks were covered by tiny cameras, and many of the smaller outbuildings were recorded too. Only the bedrooms were really private. I didn’t know who thought it would be necessary to record all this worthless data – it was probably a requirement of the Company directives – but it certainly made my job easier. It was just a shame that there were no exterior views. It wasn’t considered cost-effective to coldproof the cameras.

  With so many viewpoints, it wasn’t practical to run them all at once. I chose to see the vestibule and the comms building itself – they were the obvious ones. I added the rec room and the internal stairway of the barracks and left the rest.

  I selected ten o’clock the night before as a starting point. I couldn’t imagine that the charges were set before that, when there were still too many people awake for a saboteur to risk discovery. If I found nothing, then I could go back further.

  I set the clock running double-time and leaned back in my chair to watch.

  * * *

  By the time de Villiers responded to my message by summoning me to his office, the adrenaline and caffeine had worn off. I had the beginnings of a headache and the excitement I’d felt had been replaced by numbed fear.

  There was no answer when I knocked on his door. I was standing there, wondering what to do, when I heard footsteps behind me. I was too new to judge identity by the little traits that accompanied a person’s walk, but the stride was long and confident, and I guessed it was the commander. I was proved right a second later as he rounded the corner and gave me a nod.

  “Anders, kid, what’ve you found?” he asked as I stepped aside to allow him to enter his door code.

  “How’s the minehead?” I asked as the door opened. I didn’t want to say too much here in the corridor.

  “Fine, no problems there. Operations continue as normal.” He ushered me in and shut the door before walking around the desk and taking his seat. “What have you found?”

  Deep breath. “The avalanche…it might have been started deliberately.”

  The commander sighed and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his beard angrily.

  “Yo
u don’t seem surprised.”

  He didn’t say anything for a good while, as if he was searching for the right words. This was a new side of de Villiers for me. Gone was the glibness and the overbearing self-confidence, the humor and the strength he carried with him. He still had presence, though. And control. I could see in him the man the Company had chosen to run Australis.

  “I’m not surprised, no,” he said.

  “Why not?” The tension made me blunt.

  Again he took his time answering. “The chances of a blizzard causing an avalanche are…remote.”

  “But an earth tremor, or an ice fissure?”

  “You’ve spoken to Weng. She must have told you how unlikely that is.”

  I nodded. “And—”

  “I studied Weng’s report thoroughly even before the base was built.”

  “Is there any possibility that there is a fourteenth person hiding on the base?”

  De Villiers snorted. “Possible? Yes, of course it’s possible, Nordvelt. If he’s got a warmsuit and food and a safe place to sleep, then he can survive damn well anywhere. But is it likely? Of course not. I can’t believe that anyone’s hiding here in the barracks – too many people around. The outbuildings? Well, that’d be one mad risk. Most aren’t heated, and Abi would have said something if food supplies had gone missing. And we’d notice if anyone had set up a camp in the wastes.”

  “So you think that it was one of us that did this?” I asked.

  “Weng didn’t say an earth tremor was impossible, did she?” The commander stared hard at me. “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Get on with it, Nordvelt. I need to see Fischer and I haven’t got time for your pratting about.”

  “The surveillance cameras.”

  “Well?”

  “I think you should see for yourself, Commander.”

  He renewed his stare. Then he sighed and turned his attention to his compscreen. I glanced away as he logged on and looked at a picture on his desk. It was of a group of men – men all – standing in front of a vast open-cast mine. They were laughing, de Villiers in the middle, carefree and young.

  “Okay, what am I looking for?” He turned the screen so I could see.

  “Bring up cameras one, four, thirty-six and…I don’t know, pick a number, any number. Set for three o’clock this morning.”

  “Fine.”

  The images appeared quickly: the vestibule, the comms building and the rec room were my choices. De Villiers had added someone’s office. I looked closer and saw picture frames on the desk, a plan spread across the surface…

  “This office,” de Villiers muttered. Maybe he was trying to prove that he’d never left his private quarters, that he had slept through the night. “What am I looking for?”

  “Just watch. Speed it up if you like.”

  We didn’t have to wait long. At exactly five past three, all the cameras simultaneously went blank.

  “What the…?” de Villiers gasped.

  “The same thing happened to every camera on the base.”

  “Is that possible? How can anyone blank all the cameras simultaneously?” His impatience had vanished; now he looked shocked and, maybe, just a little afraid.

  “It’s possible,” I said. “If you have the right security clearance, then you can switch the system off. And it’s all hardwired somewhere. Somebody could have hacked it. There are ways – look, skip on to four-fifteen.”

  A few moments later, all the cameras snapped back to life and it was as if nothing had happened. Fast-forward twelve more minutes and the camera in the comms building went blank again. The avalanche had hit.

  “Plenty of time for someone to get up, get suited up and walk to the comms building. And then get back again,” de Villiers said grimly.

  I nodded. “Or take a half-track.”

  “You realize this doesn’t prove anything. Could just be an electrical fault, a loose connection somewhere.”

  I didn’t need to say anything.

  He looked at me intensely, resting his chin on his closed fist. “Assuming…assuming this wasn’t just a coincidence – who could have done this, Nordvelt?”

  I shrugged. “Anyone with the right skills. I’ll find out. But I know that there are only two people who could have blanked the cameras without doing that hardwiring, without any risk of being seen.”

  His eyes opened wide as he saw where I was going. Then his mouth set, tight and angry.

  “The only people who have the proper authority to switch off the cameras are you and me,” I finished.

  For a moment the commander was silent, blue eyes boring into me. “Are you accusing me, Nordvelt?” he said.

  “I’m just stating a fact.”

  “I would point out that whilst I, for the last six months, have been living day in, day out, to develop this base and make things fucking work, you’ve just arrived here.”

  “Yes. I know that.”

  “So tell me, why should I trust you? Why don’t I just revoke your clearance and keep you locked in your room?”

  “If I’d done this, would I be here now, telling you all this?”

  De Villiers leaned back in his chair and rubbed his beard again. Then he steepled his hands in front of his face and stared over his fingers. “If I find you’ve had anything to do with this, I will personally see you spend one hell of a long time in prison. Ha, maybe you can share a cell—” He broke off suddenly.

  I couldn’t look at him. I fixed my gaze at the wall over his shoulder, sat stiff in my chair. “Share a cell with my father? Is that what you were going to say?” I felt numb. I concentrated on my breathing, like I’d been taught. Imagined my pulse, steady and strong. “For your information, my father was released three years ago and is now working as a logistician in Bergen. And no, we’re not in regular contact.”

  De Villiers shifted in his chair. “Right,” he muttered. Then, after a long pause, “What do you plan to do now?”

  I took my time in answering. I felt like I was made of glass, brittle, faults wanting to shatter. More deep breaths. “The explosives. Where are they kept?”

  “You mean to keep investigating?”

  “Of course.”

  “Look, mate – you’re a suspect. For all I know, you’re going to be covering your tracks, or setting someone else up for the fall.”

  “Well, that’s the problem you’ve got, isn’t it, Commander?” I said. “You can suspend me, you can lock me in my room. But if someone on this base is a saboteur, then you need to find out who it is. I’m chief of security. Who else can do the job? Dr. Fischer? You? Are you prepared to take the time to investigate properly?”

  “You think I don’t want to get to the bottom of this?” he snapped. “I want to find out what happened as much as you do. More. This is my damn base, so yes, I’m going to investigate. I’m going to do my damn job, Nordvelt. Best you just keep out of the way.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  His nostrils flared. “Well, I can see we’re going to have more trouble with our security chief,” he said, low and dangerous. “Don’t know what they’re playing at, the fucking Psych. I’d hoped your file was wrong, but no, I can see you’re as pathetic as your report said.” He snarled at me, actually snarled. “Get out. Get out and just – just get out!”

  * * *

  Anger overwhelmed the embarrassment. I strode out of the commander’s office, not like a whipped dog but with head held high. Damn him, he had no right.

  No, I told myself, he has every right. He commanded this base. He knew everyone here, knew every inch of the place – inside and out. Of course he suspected me. But it was clear that he had the real motive. He didn’t want anyone who mattered to know that he’d been breaking Company rules. Destroying the comms building was the obvious wa
y to do it, would give him six extra months to convince me to keep quiet.

  If that was what had happened, I was damn well going to prove it. Then it was just a case of getting through the night shift before I could submit my report.

  Resentment drove me straight to the vestibule and into my warmsuit. It only took a few minutes before I was ready, and once more I went out into the lands of ice. It was snowing and I could only see a hundred yards or so, the industrial complex around me oddly romantic with its white mantle reflecting the blue-yellow of the floodlights. I hesitated momentarily before heading for the garage.

  The half-track felt surprisingly familiar beneath me, as if I’d been driving one just the night before and not at the Antarctic training camp several weeks ago. Maybe it was because I was relying on instinct rather than overthinking. I got it running and gently eased it forward. As the door automatically rattled shut behind me, I accelerated and headed upslope – back towards where the comms building had been.

  A 4x4 and a half-track gradually solidified as I approached, the snow, white on white, reluctant to give me a clear view. Three figures, suited and masked, were talking next to the vehicles. They watched me as I approached and stopped beside them.

  “Commander, is that you?” one of them asked. It was Abidene.

  “It’s Anders,” I called back as I dismounted. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I asked for his help,” Max replied. It was her I’d come to see. “And Greigor.”

  The other figure nodded. I couldn’t help imagining that behind the mask was a scowl, a reproof.

  “Greig and I do not have critical duties—” Abi began.

  “You speak for yourself,” Greigor interrupted fiercely. “My work is vital – a lot more use than poking round out here.”

  Abi ignored his colleague. “The commander is prepared to sacrifice his lunch if it means we get communications back.”

  “So what are you doing here, Anders?” Max asked.

  “I just wanted to ask you a few quick questions.”

  “I’ll make a start on excavating that aerial, then,” Abidene said, tactfully removing himself from earshot.