The Antarctic
Joint Antarctic
Research and Conservation Program
United States
Antarctic Program (USAP)
Dr. Scott Lehman, USA. Mission Director, Spatial Ecologist.
Dr. Mark Cote, USA/Canada. Climatologist.
Cynthia Nevinson, USA. Meteorologist. [Deceased]
Helen; AIRNE, Artificial Intelligence. Site Administration
and Communications.
Chinese Antarctic
Administration (CAA)
Wang Biyu; Jasper, China. AI Psychologist.
Li Qiang; Charles, China/France. Meteorologist,
Glaciologist.
United Kingdom, Australian
and New Zealand (UKANZ) Antarctic Survey
Tomas Dytham, UK. Deputy Director, Microbiologist,
Ecologist.
Oliver General, Australia. Maintenance, Engineering.
Hailey Wilson, Australia. Entomologist.
John Whittaker, New Zealand. Edaphologist, Hydrologist.
[Deceased]
***
Dawn broke on three flags.
Red and white stripes shimmered roughly, brushing off a
light dusting of ice clinging to the bottom. The fifty state flags were forfeit
for the patchy white outline of the Antarctic, the same shape blazing yellow
against the red background of the Chinese equivalent waving beside it. Slightly
lower, flagpole sunken embarrassingly, the quartered UKANZ flag married the
white Antarctic map, union crosses and white and red respective stars of
Australia and New Zealand. The three danced on the same wind, weaving and
dodging the breeze.
The flags barely visible through the sleet dashing against
the window, Dytham turned back to the table. Biyu’s eyes darted away just as he
glanced at her, returned to her soup. The precious stone she wore round her
neck re-entered her grasp, as her off-hand fiddled with it nervously. Cote
showed no such irritation. He cricked his neck, and stood to take his bowl over
to the sink. Dumping the half empty bowl in the soapy water, he wiped his hands
on a dishcloth and walked out without a goodbye. Biyu continued fidgeting,
without looking up.
“Are you still making Cynthia’s oxygen readings?” said
Dytham, breaking the silence. Biyu jumped slightly, and replied instantly.
“Shi, yes. Yes. Me and Scott rerouted a little power from
morgue lighting and boosted the YSI. Helen said it wouldn’t be a trouble. It’s
nice to have something to do.” She looked up and smiled a little. “I enjoy the
data.”
Dytham smiled back, and glanced out the window again. Cote
had suited up, and was climbing down the ladder to help General fix the
Hagglunds. The ATV had suffered a vague engine failure after its last excursion
to the coast to recover Nevinson, and was in the process of being repaired. Dytham
has remembered the gaunt look on Oliver General’s face as he shut the door
behind him, and explained to the entire team Nevinson’s grim fate. Hailey had
cried again, but Dytham and Qiang had volunteered to bring her body back into
the makeshift morgue. She lay there now, wrapped in a bodybag with “Cynthia”
scribbled sadly on the side.
“Tom.” Biyu had nearly whispered it, barely audible over the
wind outside. “I’m worried about Li, I mean Charles. He hardly speaks to me
anymore, and when he does he sounds so, depressed.” Biyu sunk her chin into her
hands and rubbed her eyes.
“Next time I see him, I’ll speak to him.” Dytham promised
emptily. He’d made the same promise to General about Hailey after the Cynthia
incident, but hadn’t made good on it yet.
He murmured a nicety, patted Biyu’s shoulder, and walked to
the sink, placing his empty bowl in the effervescing broth. A robotic arm begun
wiping it, as a second pulled Cote’s now clean bowl out of the sink and onto a
rack above. A tiny yellow light blinked into existence on the wall where the
arms erupted, signalling Helen wanted to talk to him.
“Hi Tom. Next time, could you make sure Mark finishes his
meal? I’d tell him myself, but he’d likely find it patronising.”
Dytham agreed, but didn’t say so. “Sure thing Helen.” He
pulled an earpiece out of his top pocket, tapped the side, slid the smooth cone
into his ear, and continued the conversation out in the hall.
“I can’t keep track of everyone here.” He said quietly,
pulling the door to the kitchen behind him closed. “If Qiangs as bad as Biyu
says then I’ll have to check on him as well. I haven’t even seen Hailey for
days, but-“
The optimized female voice cut him off gently. “Tom, you’re
staying remarkably calm given the situation. Depression is our worst enemy now
that Scott’s stabled our hydroponics. You can help, please do.”
“Why not tell Scott this?” Dytham replied irritably. “Lehman’s
meant to be leading this bloody operation, and I know he’s busy with the food
but why not get-“.
He was cut short as the large door behind him swung open,
and General stomped in. He made a gruff acknowledging nod at Dytham as he
pulled off his balaclava and threw it on a box by the door.
“How’s the Hagglund?” Asked Dytham, discreately removing the
earpiece and stowing it in his pocket.
“Bad.” Replied General, without looking away from a tablet
he’d pulled off the wall. Tearing a glove off one hand with his teeth, he begun
typing. “It won’t be taking us anywhere until we can print out a new set of
cylinders.” His thick Australian accent suddenly took a grimmer tone. “And we’re
low on multi substrate as is. Helen, what are the chances of us pulling some
emergency multisub from any of the active projects?”
A yellow light pinged at the tablets corner. “Unlikely,
unless you can bring a sufficient supply from basecamp, I can’t maintain
processes here.”
General and Helen’s voices disappeared down the corridor,
trading insults and figures respectively. Dytham scratched his beard, and put
his earpiece in again.
“Helen, still there?”
A quick reply. “I can continue three or four conversation at
once Tom. You had mentioned Scott?”
But Dytham’s mind had wandered from Lehman. “No, no forget
it. Where’s Hailey right now?”
“She’s working in the smaller laboratory. No, sorry. She’s
there, but she’s been browsing photos of John for a few hours. I suspect she
would prefer to be left alone.”
“I’m sure, but I’ll pay her a visit anyway.” Dytham pulled
on the gloves and balaclava General had left by the door, and grabbed an
immense parka off the wall.
***
Heaving the door shut behind him, Dytham took a deep breath
of warm air from the laboratory building. Cote hadn’t seen him as he passed,
too focused on the intricacies of the Hagglund’s repairs. The three doors ahead
of him were all shut. Helen’s MCH core was sealed tight at the end of the
corridor, but the two laboratory doors were unlocked. Dytham slowly opened the
door to the smaller of the two, and smiled at Hailey as she looked up.
“Tom! Hi, hi how’s it going?” Hailey’s enthusiasm was
dialled down through the sentence as she rapidly realise she was trying too
hard. Her mouse made a small but quick movement, before she lay back and
crossed her arms. Dytham suspected that a window had just been minimized.
“Fine, actually. I was just talking to Oliver about the ATV,
he says it’s fixable.” Hailey’s smile was genuine.
“That’s great. Great.” She turned back to the screen, and
feigned concentration.
Dytham walked over and sat down next to her, paused and then
said. “Look, you don’t have to pretend. I know you must be worried about John
but I’m sure he’s ok. Just because he couldn’t setup comms from basecamp
doesn’t mean he’s in trouble. If anything he’s doing better than us.”
Hailey had smiled slightly at that last part, but quickly
her face fell again. I spoke to Oliver
after he, after he brought in Cynthia.” She tried and failed to keep the
emotion from her voice. “The cabling was sound all the way up to where it went
underground. There’s no way we’ve lost comms with basecamp, John just never
made it there.”
Dytham couldn’t help but marvel at the façade Hailey had put
on for him, as she swallowed and kept a brave face on announcing the death of
her husband.
“You don’t know that.” Said Dytham gently, before nervously saying
“But Oliver asked me to check up on you, and Helen says you’ve been in here for
hours looking at photos of him-“
Sorrow flew from Hailey’s demeanour, as she whirled around
to face the tiny camera embedded in the fall. “That fucking machine’s been spying
on me again?” She nearly shouted, slamming her laptop screen shut. “That
AIRNE’s done nothing but pry on me since I got here, yellow light or not it’s
always fucking watching me I swear.” She stood, and angrily romped over to the
corner, pulling some electric tape out of her back pocket. “I’ve wanted to
cover this thing since I got here, I’m sick of this shit.”
Dytham jumped up, and hurriedly grabbed her shoulder.
“Hailey, Hailey! Helen’s just looking out for you, she’s just trying to make
sure you don’t-“
“Looking out for me!” Hailey stopped her advance on the
camera, but laughed wickedly. “Tom it’s a fucking AI! She doesn’t care about
me, it’s all just optimization to it.”
A yellow light had slowly turned on next to the camera, and
Helen’s voice gently joined the discussion. “Hailey, please listen to John.”
Hailey rounded on the camera, and got as close as she could
without standing on a chair and roared into the aperture.
“Fuck off! I don’t need your hypocritical emotional
analysis!” She kicked a box to her left angrily beneath the camera, and raised
herself up. Tape spread across the lens, and only once three layers were
applied did Hailey stop muttering obesities, and stepped down from the box.
Dytham stood in a state of shock on the other side of the
room, almost impressed with the emotional outburst his normally timid workmate
had shown. He waited until she sat down again to speak.
“AIRNE’s aside, are you sure you’re ok? That didn’t seem,
very, you.” He nodded towards the now obscured camera on the other side of the
room, and folded his arms apprehensively.
“I’m sad, and angry, and all sorts of messed up I’m sure.”
She replied furiously calm. “But I don’t need a half-cocked physiological
subroutine analysing me.”
Dytham turned his attention to the laptop his workmate had
returned too. The webcam was uncovered. He was about to ask, but Hailey
pre-empted him.
“I pulled it from the intranet.” She explained. “Unless it
somehow gets a drone in here to plug the ether cord back in, she-it, can’t spy
on my personal affairs.”
Picking up on nearly calling Helen “she” instead of “it”, Dytham
was shaken. He felt he’d outstayed his welcome.
“Okay, alright.” He replied, walking slowly over to the
door. He turned back to her, and sighed. “Don’t worry about the computer, ok?
If you want to anyone, just give me a ping.”
The two smiled at each other, and Hailey humbly murmured a
thank you and goodbye. Dytham walked out.
***
The larger lab on the opposite side of the hall was a lot
warmer than Hailey’s. The troughs and trays that lay beneath the assortment of
lights were rough and fragile, hurriedly printed a few days after the mainland messages
came in. The various plantlets and stems which wove their way around the
lab-turned-farm were all looking healthy, and hopefully edible. Dytham shut the
door behind him to preserve the heat, before Lehman told him too.
“Tom. I heard shouting.” Lehman didn’t look up from the
large computer in front of him, as he adjusted a set of dials atop the water
purification system he’d assembled a few days ago.
“Yeah. Hailey having a little freak out about Helen watching
her. She’s covered the camera in the small lab, and pulled her laptop from the
intranet.” Dytham sat down near the door, and unzipped his parka.
Helen chimed in from the computer before Lehman could reply.
“I won’t be monitoring her anymore. But the covered camera could pose a real
danger, if there’s an accident-“
Lehman was only human, but still technically Helen’s boss.
AIRNE’s didn’t get paid, but they could get shut down. “Helen it’ll be fine.
I’ll keep an eye on her. She’s not left that lab for days.”
Dytham smiled a bit. “You’ve not left here for days either.”
Lehman looked up, smiled briefly in return, and pushed his
wheel chair away from the computer. He leaned again his desk and grew sombre
again.
“It’s been hell trying to get this hydroponics system
working. I’m surprised it’s working at all frankly, especially given our
resources. I don’t trust it enough to leave for more than an hour or two. Too
much could go wrong.”
“Well, you need to show your face a little. Only me, Oliver
and Mark seem to be keeping it together, touch wood. Biyu’s saying Qiang’s in a
bad way, and she’s not great herself.” Dytham smiled again and looked Lehman in
the eye. “We need another inspiring speech, like the one you gave us after the
mainland dispatches. That really pulled us all together.”
Lehman surprised Dytham by laughing, which he hadn’t seen
the man do since the Christmas party two months ago. He tapped his watch a few
and signalled Dytham should do the same.
“You’ve got Helen to thank for that little show. She wrote
the damn thing, scavenged from three or four speeches in her records. I was
almost scared you would recognise the words of Winston Churchill.” Dytham
wasn’t shocked, Lehman valued efficiency over all. Flicking through the text on
his phone, he didn’t recognise the words per se but could believe it. Helen
spoke again.
“It was still very well done Scott. I agree with Tom,
another speech would be excellent for morale.”
Lehman shook his head. “I’d just be repeating myself. Once
Oliver repairs the Hagglunds, we’ll be able to make full outings to the coast,
where we’ll at least be able to try and contact the mainland again.”
Dytham wasn’t impressed. “Well at least tell people that.
Have a meeting in commons or the kitchen. Get people out of their rooms. In
fact, let’s do it now.” He stood, and returned to his watch and tapped Helen’s
symbol, but she pre-empted his request.
“I heard you Tom. Scott, should I make an announcement?”
Dytham had zipped his jacket back up, and turned to Lehman who still sat at his
desk. He thought for a second, before replying.
“Okay then. It’s a good idea.” He walked to the door Dytham
held open, grabbing a jacket off the rack. “I’ll tell Hailey in person, remind
her there’s a person opposite her, as well as a machine.” The two left the lab,
the door pushed shut behind them.
***
Commons was large. The room was meant to accommodate the
entire crew and guests from the coast or mainland, but the room was
depressingly far from full today. Dytham was the last to enter, just as Lehman
looked like he was about to start. Biyu, General and Cote sat on one of the
sofas near the door, while Qiang stood alone at the other end of the room.
Hailey leaned reluctantly by the door, scowling at Lehman, who stood ahead of
all of them at the centre of the room. Making a surprise appearance, Helen had
illuminated the flat screen television to Qiang’s left with an image of her
“face”, which would talk and express emotion whenever she spoke. It currently
looked sombre and serious, much like all the more realistic faces in the room.
“Right.” Lehman began, crossing his arms and looking around
the assembled scientists in front of him. “It’s been about two weeks since we
last all got together, and while the situation is far from perfect, negative
attitudes won’t help things.” He gestured at Cote. “Mark here says that we
should be able to print new parts for the Hagglunds, and after that it’s just a
case of ferrying people to the coast. Once we’re there, we can try and contact
the mainland again, and-“
Almost on cue, the room began to shake. Mugs, books and the
entire tables themselves begun to skitter and trundle around the room. Qiang
grabbed the wall, and barely remained standing. Everyone else just locked in,
and hung on to whatever was largest and nearest. The shacking continued for
about thirty seconds, before fading and finally stopping.
Unfazed, Lehman continued. “And once at the mainland, we can
try to-“, but found himself cut short again.
“And then what?” Qiang’s Sino-French voice was raised and
annoyed. “You heard the messages, we all did! There’s nothing left of a
mainland to visit! And even if there was, you think the Milner survived?” He
pushed himself off the wall, and advanced on Lehman. “We haven’t heard anything
from the coast, the station’s probably destroyed!”
Biyu’s face had disappeared into her hands, and Cote looked
troubled enough to almost make Dytham like him. General and Hailey were less
amused. Logical arguments presented from the two were rebuked by Qiang’s own,
until eventually the three descended into a dull roar. Gesticulating and
waving, the trio attracted each other into a matter of centimetres. Biyu cried.
Dytham felt his second in command duties rising themselves up from the thick
fear of embarrassment he’d felt a year ago when he was forced to tell Hailey
and John the crew could hear it when they copulated in their room. Lehman was
still for a moment, before turning to Helen’s digitized face and nodded.
A claxon screamed. The shouting was cauterized. The siren
died as well after a brief millisecond, unheard since the safety briefing that
had actually proceeded in the copulating incident by a few weeks, back when the
mission started when the crew moved in. Lehman made good use of the now heavy
silence.
“Charles. Pessimism isn’t going to get us anywhere, so calm
down.”
General agreed, muttering. “Remember your training you
coward.”
Lehman pre-empted Qiang’s response as he rounded on General.
“Charles! Please we all know the situation is bad, but you-“. He didn’t finish
his sentence. Qiang had left, looked utterly defeated. He made an effort to not
barge into either Dytham or General as he passed the two on his way out. Crying
mixed with depressed laughed echoed from down the hall before a door slammed,
leaving only Biyu’s quiet tears to accompany the reshuffling, as people sat
back down. Cote patted her on the shoulder, with Dytham noticing how he
nervously glanced towards General, who didn’t look happy.
“Well, now we’re all collected.” Lehman continued, pausing
to look at the door. “I’ll talk to Charles later, I’m sure he’s just stressed.
I know we all feel a bit like him at the moment, but it’s important we don’t
fall apart. The situation seems a lot worse than it is.” He gestured at Dytham.
“I just showed Tom the hydroponics I’ve set up. Just last week we were falling
apart about food, and now we’re nearing self-sustainability, as long as we
don’t expect any roast dinners.” He smiled, and a bit of warmth returned to the
room.
“The Hagglunds is looking better.” Said Cote, as he laid
back slightly in his chair. “Helen’s printing some parts now, and I’ll probably
be able to get them installed in a day or two.” He looked pleased with himself.
“Excellent.” Hailey commented, before she coughed slightly
and turned her face steely. Blinking, she continued. “I just want everyone to
know that if, when, when we make it to the coast, I would like to be one of the
first there. To see, to see if John is okay. If he’s alive.” Finished, she
relaxed.
“Of course.” Lehman eased, as he leaned far forward off his
chair and patted her arm. “Oliver and you can be the first to go.” He looked up
at Oliver, who nodded gruffly before turning away to the window. Dytham spoke
up too, directing his question at General.
“What was our multisub situation saying?” He asked, before
turning his eyes to the monitor expecting some graphs. General walked past him
and began to explain the figures which had replaced Helen’s visage, but
suddenly the screen changed violently.
“Alert!” Helen said without any emotion, optimized only for getting attention. “I think, yes. Li Qiang is attempting suicide.” The screen showed Qiang from above, as he wrestled with a craft knife. Dytham didn’t see the rest, as he launched himself out of commons and down the corridor after Cote who was yanking open the intermediate doorway and sprinting towards Qiangs room. Beyu’s scream and a satisfyingly severe “Jesus Christ!” from General were heard from commons. Lehman walked.
By the time he had slowly strode to Qiangs room, both Dytham
and Cote’s hands were warm with blood. Qiang’s lifeless eyes traced the arch of
the ceiling as the pair lay his head down on the blanket they’d used to try and
stifle the gash across his neck. Lehman closed his eyes. Biyu wrapped herself
around Hailey, their tears mirrored in Cote and Dythams face. An aftershock
tremor painted the pool of blood into a mathematically pleasing randomized
shape.
“Fuck.” Said nobody in particular.
***
