by Cross, Amy
“Everyone else who?”
“The other people who work here overnight.”
“Ha!” he said, with an exaggerated chuckle. “Very funny. You'll learn.”
“What?”
“Here's your first lesson,” he added, swiping a key-card against a sensor, activating the mechanism that allowed him to push the door open. “Never leave anywhere unlocked. Not even for a few minutes.”
“Of course not.”
“Not even to go to the bathroom.”
“Sure.”
“Or to make a cup of tea.”
“Absolutely not.”
“All doors are to be locked at all times.”
“I completely understand.”
“Right, then. Inside with you, young lady. Hurry up, we haven't got all night. Well, we have, but that's the point, isn't it?”
“It is?”
“This is home for us.”
Stepping into the security control room, Casey stared at the large bank of sixteen black-and-white CCTV monitors on the far wall, and for a moment she seemed utterly mesmerized by the flickering images showing night shots of various passages, corridors, hallways and outside areas. Every so often, seemingly at random, one of the images would switch to a different angle of the same spot, and Casey seemed so taken aback by the wall of screens that she didn't even react when Tom let the door swing shut behind them. The lights from all the screens were dazzling her eyes.
“You'll get used to it,” Tom said finally.
She turned to him. “I'm sorry?”
“Between the hours of 1am and 6am, Hexley Airport is manned by just two security officers.”
She stared, waiting for the punchline.
“Two?” she said uncertainly.
He nodded.
“For the whole airport?”
“We're just a provincial facility,” he continued. “Ninety-five per cent of our take-offs and landings are cargo, and the remainder are just local and national flights. Nothing international. That, combined with some frankly dodgy arrangements with the local authorities, means that the owners of this place get away with blue murder. Hence, just two of us on night duty.”
“Seriously?”
“And right now, that's you and me, watching over the terminal and all the out-buildings, plus the tarmac and the runway. Basically everything inside the perimeter fence.” He stopped for a moment, looking up at the flickering screens as if he too was mesmerized. “Sometimes,” he added after a few seconds, “it's like poetry. Apart from taking a wander once an hour, I find myself staring at these things and just watching the emptiness out there. It's very good for the soul.”
Looking back up at the screens, Casey struggled to think of a reply. She'd expected a hive of activity, but instead she was amazed by the quiet and calm of the place.
“There are certainly a lot of them,” she suggested finally.
“Say what?”
“The screens. There are a lot.”
“Oh. Right. You're not wrong there. Now put that backpack down somewhere and I'll show you the ropes. Tea?”
Heading over to the table at the far end of the room, he set his mug down and flicked a switch on the top of the kettle. He was already muttering something under his mustache, and he took a moment to chip some dirt off one of the cups before setting it out.
Casey looked around for someone to put the backpack, although nowhere was immediately apparent.
“Floor'll be fine,” Tom said suddenly.
She turned to him and saw that he still had his back to her.
“Milk?” he asked. “Sugar?”
“Please,” she replied, setting her backpack down on the floor, before sliding it further into the corner. “I mean, no. I mean... Milk, but no sugar. If that's alright.”
She paused. She actually wanted sugar but no milk, but she worried that she'd seem like an airhead if she corrected herself, so she figured she could just drink it anyway.
Tom chuckled to himself as he headed over to the fridge and took out a carton of milk.
“You'll go far in this job, young lady,” he muttered, stopping to watch the kettle as it began to boil. “You'll relax into it. I know the whole set-up can seem daunting, but there's not really very much to the job. Most of the systems are automated, and you'd be surprised how up-to-date the security features are, even at an out-of-the-way place like Hexley. That's part of the problem, really. They rely so much on these computers, they think they can skimp when it comes to boots on the ground.”
He sniffed as he opened the milk carton.
“If anything so much as sneezes within ten meters of the perimeter fence, for example,” he continued, “all our bells and whistles'll go crazy.”
Wandering over to take a closer look at the bank of monitor screens, Casey's face was bathed in a faint electric glow as her attention moved from one screen to the next. Each screen showed a time-stamped shot of a different section of the airport. Some of the images were of nothing more than bare corridors, while others showed empty departure gates, but her attention was finally drawn to the shots of outside areas. Heavy snow was falling, adding to the static of the video feeds, and Casey stared for a couple of minutes at one particular image that showed a door close to some kind of electric light rig that kept alternating in the bad weather. Unlike all the other video feeds, this particular image kept zooming in and out a little, as if the camera was struggling to focus on something in the storm.
“Here you go,” Tom said, setting a steaming mug of tea on the desk in front of her.
“Is that one faulty?” she asked.
“Come again?”
“Up there.” She pointed to the monitor at the top left, where the image was still constantly twitching and re-focusing. At the same time, a grid overlay was occasionally flickering in and out of view, seemingly focused on a spot close to the door.
“That's one of the new facial recognition cameras,” Tom muttered, before taking a sip of tea that left his mustache dripping. “They're new, only a few months old. Fifteen million quid, can you believe it? Fifteen million! And they still get confused by the bleedin' snow.”
“Confused?”
“It thinks it's spotted a face out there, is all,” he continued, as they both watched the screen's continued twitches and jerks. “The idea is that when it sees a face, it captures an image and compares it to a database of people who have clearance to be out there beyond the terminal building. Fine, whatever, if they want to waste money on something like that, I'm not gonna complain. But as you can see, sometimes the bleedin' thing thinks there's a face where there isn't one.”
Stepping closer, to get a better view, Casey stared up at the screen. The camera appeared to be trying over and over again to focus on one particular area right next to an external door, and every few seconds an overlaid grid added a rectangle, as if the computer system was trying and failing to isolate a face in the snowy night air.
“Kinda creepy, innit?” Tom suggested.
“Are you sure it's faulty?”
“Well, there's nobody there, is there?”
“No, but -”
“That's another lesson for you, young lady. All these fancy gadgets are useful, and I'm sure they have their place, but at the end of the day they're never gonna replace good old-fashioned nous. The machines and computers are an aid. They can help us, but they can't replace us. I keep telling the bosses that over and over again, but do they listen?” Sighing, he took another sip of tea. “They reckon that one day, they'll be able to do away with staff altogether and run the whole place automatically. And do you know what I say? No bleedin' chance.”
“It's weird that it keeps trying to focus on that one same area,” Casey pointed out, still watching as the camera and the computer system struggled to isolate one particular part of the image.
“You think it's weird?”
“Don't you?”
“Bleedin' thing does it all the time. Well, not always that camera. Someti
mes it's one of the others.”
“But why does it happen?”
“It's these computers, innit? They never work properly. Someone somewhere pocketed a pile of money to provide some kinda fancy new system, but it never actually does what it's supposed to do.” He sighed. “Same old story. The only progress these people care about is the progress of money to their bank accounts.”
“But it's really trying to lock on to something out there,” Casey replied, squinting a little. “I studied software engineering. It was kind of what I wanted to do, but there aren't any jobs around at the moment.” She pointed at the screen. “I'm not an expert on this kind of thing, but the system is definitely recognizing something next to that door. It thinks there's a face there.”
“Right, but there isn't.”
“No, but...”
She paused, still watching the screen, not even reacting as Tom headed to the other end of the desk and grabbed a flashlight.
“Alright, then,” he said, slipping the flashlight into her right hand, “if you think there's something worth checking out, go check it out.”
“What?” She stared down at the flashlight, her eyes widening with shock.
“Don't try begging off now,” he added with a grin. “It might be your first night, but that doesn't mean you can't get tossed in the deep end. Part of the job is to go and check if you think you spot anything that's not right. Obviously you think something's not right in the area outside door 31F, so it's your responsibility to go and take a look-see.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Off you go, then. Bon voyage.”
“You mean -”
“I certainly do. Don't worry, it's not far from here. You'll find your way. Consider this your first challenge.”
“But you -”
“Your face is priceless right now,” he added, grabbing a key-card and handing it to her. “That'll get you through all the doors. Shouldn't take you too long. With any luck, your tea'll still be warm when you get back. If it isn't, I'll be nice and make you another.”
“But I -”
“And maybe you'll learn a valuable lesson about not over-reacting,” he continued, steering her back over toward the door and pulling it open, revealing the bare corridor outside. “If you want to do this job, and you want to do it properly, then you have to go and take a look. But don't worry, I'll be right here watching over the monitor. You'll be perfectly safe. And remember, it's only you and me in the whole place until just before six.”
“But you -”
“You're a security guard, aren't you? So go and make sure the place is secure.”
With that, he gave her a gentle push until she was out in the corridor, and then he swung the door shut.
Standing all alone, with a key-card in one hand and a flashlight in the other, Casey could just about hear Tom chuckling to himself in the control room. She wanted to knock on the door and ask if he was serious, but she was starting to realize with a sinking feeling that perhaps she really was supposed to go and take a look around by herself. Finally, she began to make her way along the corridor, although at the far end she stopped and looking back, hoping against hope that Tom would lean back out and tell her he was joking.
That didn't happen.
Chapter Two
By day, departure gate 1A was usually one of the busiest parts of the airport. Tourists argued and struggled to find seats, families argued, and tannoy announcements shouted over one another as they called people to the planes.
By night, however, the area was as deserted as all the rest, although the main lights were still burning bright. All the seats were empty, all the food areas had been cleaned, and all the shops had their shutters down.
Shortly after 1:15am, the automatic door leading to the main gantry suddenly swished open. There was no sign of anyone walking through, but the door remained open for a couple of minutes before slowly sliding shut again, and a moment later – had anyone been around to notice – the sound of footsteps would have been heard heading past the main desk and over toward the atrium. And then, once the footsteps had faded, the entire area fell silent again, save for the very faint buzzing sound coming from the lights. Up on the side of a pillar, a security camera turned and followed the sound, while the lens constantly shifted as it tried to focus on someone it couldn't see.
Outside, beyond the large floor-to-ceiling windows next to the departure gate, snow was blowing through the air.
***
“Woah!” Casey gasped as she pulled the door open, only for the howling gale outside to snatch the handle and slam the door shut again.
Stopping for a moment, she listened to the sound of the snowstorm outside, and then she set her gloved hands back on the handle and pulled harder and firmer this time, making sure to not let go. A strong wind immediately blew snow into the corridor, but she struggled to keep hold of the door and finally she stepped outside, immediately setting her booted feet into a hefty pile of snow. She pulled the collar of her jacket tighter, as the howling wind sent swirls of snow all around, and then suddenly the door slammed shut behind her, hitting her in the small of the back with the metal handle.
Stumbling forward, she turned and scowled at the door, before looking all around and seeing that she was out in what seemed to be some kind of loading area with various markings on the ground for taxiing planes to follow. Above, a jet bridge extended a couple of hundred feet from the side of the terminal building, reaching all the way to the side of a plane that had been left parked overnight. Several more planes were connected to bridges a little further along the side of the building, although the howling wind made it difficult for anything to be seen beyond the immediate zone. Visibility was down to no more than twenty or thirty feet.
Nearby, a bright green light burned through the snow at the top of a gantry, although a moment later it switched to red instead. Ice was encrusted all around the casing.
Reaching into her pocket, Casey took out the cellphone and brought up Tom's number, and she waited shivering in the cold night air for him to pick up. She'd been surprised that they'd had to use their own phones, rather than being issued with walkie-talkies, although on second thought she'd realized that perhaps walkie-talkies were rather old-fashioned. She hadn't dared ask.
“I can see you!” Tom said as soon as he answered.
Looking around, she finally spotted a black-domed security camera high up on the side of the bridge. She stared for a moment, before raising a hand and offering a tentative wave.
“Not that one,” he continued. “To your left.”
Turning, she saw another camera, and she quickly waved again while offering a faint smile. Then she realized that perhaps the wave made her look dumb, so she stopped.
“You'll be pleased to know,” Tom added, “that the system seems to be functioning fine now. It's locked onto your face and...” He hesitated for a moment, as if he was waiting for something on one of the screens. “There! Well, would you believe it? The bleedin' thing is actually working for once. Not only did it pick your face out from the screen, but it identified you based on your employee profile. Wonders'll never cease, eh?”
“That's great,” she replied, unable to keep her teeth from chattering as she took a couple of steps away from the door.
“It still thinks there's another one out there, though,” Tom muttered.
“I'm sorry?”
“The system. It's still trying to identify a face about three or four feet behind you, near the door.”
Turning, Casey looked back toward the door, but all she saw was swirling snow and a sign on the wall identifying this particular area as 31F. She waited a moment, but there was definitely no sign of anyone around, and a few seconds later the nearby red light changed back to green.
“It's still doing it,” Tom told her.
“There's no-one else here,” she replied, looking both ways along the side of the building.
“I never said there was. It's this bleedin' computer system, innit? Maybe the snow's
giving it the runaround.”
“I'm sure they factored snow into the program. That'd be one of the first things you'd do.”
“Obviously not. Still, while you're out there, you might as well complete the hourly check.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you walk around the perimeter of the terminal building, just so we can tick a box and say that we carried out all the proper inspections.”
She turned and looked along the side of the building again. Just the thought of staying outside was enough to send a chill through her bones.
“All the way around?” she asked cautiously.
“It only takes about half an hour.”
“Right.” She hesitated, tempted to ask whether the whole thing was strictly necessary, but then she took a deep breath as she realized that she had to make a good impression. “Okay, then,” she said, stepping past the door, “I guess if that's part of the job, I'll just -”
Suddenly she lost her footing, slipping on a patch of ice and slamming down hard on her back. Letting out a pained cry, she winced and immediately rolled onto her side. Fortunately, it took only a few seconds for her to determine that nothing was broken.
“I saw that,” Tom said matter-of-factly over the phone. “You didn't hurt yourself, did you?”
“I think I'm fine,” she groaned, taking a moment before hauling herself to her feet. She almost slipped again, but this time she managed to steady herself.
“You wanna watch the ice out there,” Tom told her.
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
“Are you sure you're alright? You sound a little breathless.”
“The fall just knocked the wind out of me a little,” she replied, stepping very carefully over to the wall and then taking a moment to lean against one of the panels. “I'm fine. Just give me a moment.”
“You really wanna watch out for the ice,” he said again. “There'll be a lot of it about.”
“I get it.”
“The display says it's minus fourteen out there,” he continued. “Bleedin' heck, that's cold. Mind you, we've had colder.”
“I'm sure.”