Three Flags.

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.

***

Persequendum est...