TEMPEST OUTPOST
BRAD HARMER-BARNES
www.severedpress.com
Copyright 2017 by BRAD HARMER-BARNES
For anyone who has ever attended a Bad Movie Night.
ONE
Jazmin Hayes shivered in her seat as the UH-60 Black Hawk powered through the night sky towards Tempest Outpost. At just nineteen years old, riding an ex-military helicopter across the sea off the coast of Antarctica was one of the most exciting things she had ever done. The cold took the edge off of the thrill somewhat, but it was – nonetheless – an experience.
She smiled across at her co-passenger, Claire Flynn, who was accompanying her to her internship. The representative of Icecap Industries was probably only five years or so older than Jazmin, but those five years seemed to make her a grown woman, whereas Jazmin still felt very much like a teenager loose in an adult world.
“You must be excited?” Claire shouted over the roar of the Black Hawk’s rotors, her English accent thankfully making her more understandable. “Six weeks on an experimental drilling rig. With this on your CV you should have the pick of universities, colleges, apprenticeships…whatever you want. You name it, and you’ll get on it.”
Jazmin was pleased. She’d been fascinated by geology ever since a family holiday to England’s coast had led to her finding some fossils on the beach. They weren’t exactly dinosaur bones – just some plant imprints – but it had been enough to engage her interest for life. To her, the entire history of the Earth was imprinted in the rock, waiting to be read.
“Yeah, I can’t wait! So, have you met the crew before? What are they like?”
“I’ve met Anna Morris – the expedition leader – a few times over the years. She’s a strong woman. Very friendly, but she definitely doesn’t take any shit either. I think you’ll get along just fine.”
“Anyone else?”
“I’ve met Cameron Barnett in passing. He’s the one who designed the Prospero. A very bright guy, but his head’s up in the clouds a lot of the time. He’s definitely a dreamer, but as an inventor, I suppose you have to be.”
Jazmin blinked and wiped her face as a gust of wind brought salt spray in through the half-open side door. “How many crew are there?”
“Six. Including the two I just mentioned. And us two.”
“You’re staying on?”
Claire grimaced. “I’m afraid so. I’m not just your chauffeur. Every nine months Icecap Industries sends someone along to check that the facility is up to code, and that work’s actually being carried out. Essentially I’m just checking that they’re not pissing our money away.”
“You think they are?”
“Probably not while Morris is in charge, but who knows what we’ll find when we get there.”
The light inside the passenger compartment switched from a dull yellow to an ominous red, and the co-pilot’s voice buzzed through a barely functioning intercom. “Ten minutes to landing.”
Jazmin suppressed a shiver. She didn’t mind shivering in the cold, but didn’t want to show any of her co-workers how nervous she was.
***
Anna Morris and Kurt Townsend, the Geologist, stood on Tempest Outpost’s helipad, scanning the sky for signs of the supply chopper. Strands of Anna’s blonde hair blew loose from her hat and flew across her eyes. She cursed and squeezed them back under its knitted band.
“You think they’ll have burgers on board? I haven’t had a decent cheeseburger in four months.”
Kurt harrumphed a laugh. A portly German man, he didn’t joke about much, and he certainly didn’t joke about food. “Maybe. Let’s hope they have cheese, too.”
“I put in a request for cheese. Cheese and Twinkies.”
“Do Twinkies work on a cheeseburger?”
“Twinkies work with anything, Kurt.”
Another harrumphed laugh. “I think I see them. Over there.”
Anna looked to where the geologist was pointing and couldn’t help smiling to herself. “Yeah, unless there are two helicopters fifty miles out from Antarctica, I think that’s them. Okay, don’t forget to be on your best behaviour around the inspector. She’s around until the next supply drop in six weeks. And make sure everyone’s on best behaviour with the intern as well. A teenage kid on a drilling rig for six weeks is a recipe for chaos in more ways than one.”
“Yes, Captain.”
They both flinched away from the gusts of water and ice that span across the helipad as the Black Hawk finally touched down, only relaxing as the rotors finally came to a stop. They made their way carefully across the wet, slippery ground and Anna extended her hand to the older of the two visitors.
“Claire! It’s good to see you again. I was worried Icecap were going to send us a tedious old man like the last time. You ever had to talk about cricket for six weeks solid? I’m surprised I didn’t go full Jack Torrance on that stretch.”
Claire smiled and shook her hand back. “Captain, this is Jazmin Hayes. She’s your intern until the next supply chopper comes by. Make sure you show her a little bit of everything.”
Anna took in the small young woman in front of her. Her eyes displayed a nervousness that the rest of the face was trying desperately to hide. “Pleased to meet you. You know what we’re about here?”
“Uh, drilling and…no, not really. I was just told you were a drilling rig.”
Anna tutted at Claire. “You guys really need to sort out your briefings. How about we head out of the cold while your goons unload the supplies? Kurt, you can make sure everything gets sent to the right place.”
“I find any Twinkies and I’ll be eating them all.”
“You do and you’ll be going for a swim. Come on, girls, let me show you around.”
Anna led Claire and Jazmin through a drafty wooden door and into a cloakroom warmed by two electric fan heaters. Although the room was probably still below twenty degrees, it felt tropical by comparison. They all shucked their heavy winter coats and followed Claire through another door, down a corridor and into a small canteen area. They helped themselves to tea and coffee, and sat at a Formica table.
“Okay”, began Anna. “Welcome to Tempest Outpost. I’m Anna Morris, but everyone about Tempest Outpost calls me Captain. I’m not actually a captain, but for the duration of your stay, I’ll be the one in charge. You already met Kurt up on the helipad, he’s our Geologist. Any rocks or strata that Prospero brings up, he’ll be the one leading the analysis. He has an assistant, Bobby. You’ll meet him pretty soon, I’m sure.”
“What is Prospero?” interrupted Jazmin.
Anna let the silence hang for a moment to show her disapproval, but moved on without further comment. The intern had flushed red with embarrassment at her own rudeness – she was just excited and nervous, that was all. “The Prospero is the drill that this entire rig is built around. Cameron Barnett – again, he’s hovering around here somewhere – designed a new shape of drill, which is designed to be able to crack through the rock around here with ease. We should be able to take geological samples that have previously been unobtainable.”
“What sort of samples are you looking for?” asked Claire.
Anna shrugged. “New fossils, geological data, alien cities buried beneath the ice; who knows? There could even be crude oil. Don’t worry, Miss Flynn. There’ll be something to satisfy Icecap’s balance sheet or investors or whatever.”
“What is it about the rock around here that requires the Prospero?” asked Jazmin.
“We don’t really know. All previous attempts with standard equipment have either resulted in very little progress, or in the drills themselves being damaged. So, when Mr Barnett pitched his idea to Icecap, they practically bit his hand off to get it here.”
&
nbsp; The door leading deeper into the rig banged open and two people in dirty overalls stamped in, laughing with each other. They realised how loud they were being, and waved an apology to the three women before heading to the kitchen. With no catering staff, all the crew were responsible for preparing their own meals.
“That’s the remaining two members of the crew here. The big, black hunk of beef was Roger Caldwell, and the short girl was Betty Harper. They’re the engineers here. So now you know what we’re about and you know who everyone is. Any questions?”
Claire had started jotting notes on her notepad. “You don’t have any medical staff?”
“We’ve all received first aid training but, no, there’s no doctor. There’s an infirmary loaded up with some medical supplies – painkillers, plasters, bandages. I think there’s a neck brace and an AED too, but no; no doctors or nurses.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?” asked Jazmin, wide eyed.
“No. It just makes us all very careful. Anything else?”
“What are crew sleeping arrangements? Do you work in shifts?”
Anna fished a cigarette from her pocket and lit it. “We’re six people – now eight – on a rig designed to house at least ninety people. Don’t worry, everyone has a room to themselves. Hell, you can have five if you want. God knows Roger spreads his stuff around a few to make a little bungalow all of his very own. To answer your other question, no, there aren’t fixed shifts. I run a very loose ship here. You know why?”
“Why?” asked Jazmin.
Anna sighed out a cloud of smoke. “I trust us all to get along and do the work because we want to. If someone wants a day off, they can take one, and we all get along great for it. My only problems are when we run low on Twinkies or the Street Fighter machine packs in. This works for a very simple reason: no-one takes a job like this unless they want to work here. I think you two can settle in to this arrangement.”
TWO
Jazmin followed Captain Anna and Claire into the laboratory and her eyes lit up. This was what she was hoping for when she applied for the internship. The place looked like something straight out of a movie, with microscopes, oscilloscopes, and test tubes on nearly every bench. Rock and dust samples lay in neatly labelled jars and cases. She found herself smiling without even realising it. It took a couple of seconds before she even noticed the man who was now shaking hands with and talking to Claire and Anna. She stepped forward and allowed herself to be introduced.
Bobby Kelly looked much younger than she had been expecting a scientist to look. He still had mostly black hair and was – to be honest – pretty good looking. She shook his hand, suppressing her own nervous state and remembering what she’d been told about something called “impostor syndrome”. Impostor Syndrome was something that meant even those people who are generally considered to be masters in the field don’t feel worthy of the attention and prestige they have. They worry they’re going to be called out as impostors. As a nineteen year old intern aboard a privately owned Antarctic drilling rig and standing in an actual, honest to God laboratory…she kind of knew what they were feeling.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jazmin,” Bobby said. “From what Anna was saying before you arrived, it looks like you’ll be splitting your time between working with me here, and working with Kurt on the rock samples. You got any special interest?”
Jazmin shook her head. “Not especially. I’d like to try a little bit of everything while I’m here.”
“That sounds good to me,” said Anna. “I’ll also make sure you get some drill time with Cameron, and some engineering duty with Betty and Roger. Hell, you can even do some of my paperwork if you like?”
Jazmin wasn’t certain if the Captain was joking or not, so offhandedly gestured in the affirmative. “Why not?”
“What have you been working on?” Anna asked Bobby.
“Well, as you know, the drill’s been out of action while Cam, Betty and Roger repair the damage…”
“What happened?” asked Claire.
“We don’t know,” snapped Anna, before Bobby could answer. “The drill could have hit something hard, or just struck a surface at an odd angle, making it skid a little. The tip of the drill bit is fine, but there’s some scoring along its length, and the engineers wanted to check the main chuck for any stress or shock damage. We’re not concerned.”
“…So I’ve just been analysing and cataloguing the samples we’ve received so far,” finished Bobby.
“Find anything cool?” asked Jazmin, blushing as the Captain raised an eyebrow at her.
“No, not exactly cool,” smiled Bobby. “Some slate rock, a couple of nice looking plant fossils, but we haven’t exactly stumbled across a live dinosaur or a mysterious forgotten city, no. To be honest, the Prospero hasn’t yet hit the depth that I’d like it to. I’d like to break through the next hundred metres or so. I think we could really find something interesting then.”
“Does the Prospero go that deep?” asked Claire.
“The Prospero can, theoretically, go about a mile deep, but I’m sure Cameron would rather be the one to explain all that. The reason I’d like to crack the next hundred metres is because the last few times we’ve attempted is when the drill has…skittered a little…resulting in the damage the Captain just described. I think there’s something there we need to break through. A shell or cover of some kind, if you will.”
“That’s very interesting, Bobby,” smiled Claire. “I look forward to seeing more of your work while I’m here.”
“You’d be welcome in the lab at any time. How long are you staying for?”
“Six weeks. Myself and Jazmin here will be heading back out with the next supply ‘copter.”
***
Claire nudged Jazmin as they followed the Captain down several flights of metal steps, the heating whirred around them constantly, and the jangling of their footsteps seemed to echo endlessly. “He was kind of hot, wasn’t he?”
“I…I didn’t really notice.”
“Didn’t you? Oh, come on! I was expecting him to be this old, decrepit man with a massive bald spot and glasses. Are all geologists that hot?”
“Some of them, I guess.”
“Am I embarrassing you?”
“What? No! I…”
Anna banged through what looked like a fire door, and they were surprised by the chill that flew around them. “The Prospero is – obviously – located at the centre of the rig, so the closer you get, the closer you get to open air and the further you get from our cosy, warm offices and bedrooms. Never, ever go directly outside without full winter gear on. If the cold doesn’t kill you, the shock will make you really fucking ill. Are we absolutely clear on that?”
Jazmin mumbled a subservient reply and Claire nodded. Did “Captain” Anna think she was stupid? If it was up to her she’d spend the next six weeks hunkered around the warmest fan heater while the teenager played with her test tubes in the laboratory.
They turned down a corridor that was lined with windows. Anna gestured through them. “The Prospero.”
Claire and Jazmin squinted through the blowing ice and snow at the colossal drill bit that hung in the centre of Tempest Outpost. Claire had prepared for Cameron Barnett’s mad scheme to be big, but at the top, it had to be easily three hundred metres across. Serrated teeth, stained with salt and lichen stared madly back at them. It was wide, but hung two hundred metres straight down.
“I thought Bobby said that this thing could go a mile deep?”
“I’ll leave that for Cameron to explain. He’ll be in the control room.”
Claire and Jazmin followed her through a few more corridors and fire doors, catching glimpses of the Prospero every now and again, hanging strangely like a megalithic monument in the ice, like an alien icon set in the freezing desert.
At last Anna pushed open a door into a large room full of computers and controls and levers. A dorky looking kid of about twenty years old, his thick hair slicked back with what Claire hoped w
as hair wax, was scrutinising some nuts and bolts through thick lensed glasses. He looked up when Anna coughed, and smiled at them warmly. “Oh, hey, Captain! These must be the new guys?”
He got awkwardly to his feet, wiping his palms on his jeans and offered handshakes to Jazmin and Claire. Claire thought he was awkward, but actually kind of endearing, although she could tell that Jazmin was less than impressed. Maybe she’d been hoping for someone hotter? Tough break, little Jazmin.
“So, what can I do for you?” asked Cameron. “You want to see the Prospero in action? I’m afraid that’s probably not going to happen today. She can be a little temperamental and…well…we had an impact yesterday that kind of got us all a little worried. Due to the structure of the internal teles-”
“I filled them in on yesterday’s incident, Cam,” interrupted Anna. “Don’t worry, we can all wait for tomorrow to see Prospero in action.”
“Oh. Sure. Uh, has Bobby talked to you about wanting to push harder? He thinks that there’s a shell or cover of some kind that we need to break through in order to find anything really interesting. I’ve sent up some of the top layer shards we picked up to him, and he thinks they’re Precambrian. So that means that whatever is below the shell or shield or whatever…that’s going to be old.”
“Pre-precambrian?” said Jazmin, excitedly. “What do you mean? Hadean?”
Cameron tried to look professional and suave, and failed miserably. “Yeah. Possibly. I mean, that’s more Bobby’s thing. I just picked up a few terms here and there, you know. Like you do. I got one of those brains that just picks stuff up I guess. Yeah. Hadean.”
Jazmin looked at him, amazed, and Claire spoke up. “So, how does the drill go down that deep? It looks to me like it’s, what, two hundred metres long? That’s a pretty big drill, but pretty short of a mile.”
Cameron smiled. “Well, there’s the part that got me the grant, and got me that nice ‘Inventor of the Year’ award over on the wall there. It’s telescopic. I had the idea when I was seventeen, playing with a pin vice drill. You guys into Warhammer? Doesn’t matter. The idea came quick, but getting all the moving parts to work took a couple of years, plus another two years to get the thing built. Anyway, there it is. You spin the drill, and the internal parts push out, up to a depth of about a mile. And yeah, I think we can cross our fingers for some Hadean samples tomorrow.”
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